


I Can Never Remember That Line Parts 1-18

by 3988Akasha



Category: Labyrinth (1986), Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Dubious Consent, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-30
Updated: 2011-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 51,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3988Akasha/pseuds/3988Akasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones becomes tired of Spock and the way he treats Jim. When he overhears Sulu and Chekov discussing a myth about the Goblin King, he makes a fatal wish: “If it is the planet of the Goblin King,” Bones muttered, “I wish he’d take away the pointy-eared hobgoblin.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Never Remember That Line Parts 1-18

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a LJ K/S prompt from bones_2_be. Prompt: I want a fic, maybe need a fic, where Bones accidentally summons Jareth to, "take away the pointy-eared hobgoblin." When Jim finds out, he needs to go to the planet of the Goblin King and rescue Spock by beating the Labyrinth. Of course he's all, "Die motherfuckers, and give me back my Vulcan."
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful alanndra!

**Part 1**

“You weren’t this fond of him when he put you in front of the board for hacking his precious Kobayashi Maru,” Bones reminded Jim.

“No, I wasn’t. I didn’t know him, Bones. And he didn’t know me. He was trying to teach a lesson. Again, we just didn’t share the same mindset.”

“He marooned you on Delta Vega,” Bones argued.

“I know, Bones. I was there,” Jim responded, his voice vaguely amused. Kirk continued to make his way to the observation deck, knowing Bones would follow and continue his rant regardless of any protestations on Jim’s part.

“You’re simply going to ignore that? It was mutiny, Jim,” Bones continued, his voice becoming louder and more impassioned.

“It wasn’t mutiny. I wasn’t the captain – he was.”

“Tell me you weren’t thinking about reporting him for breaking some obscure Starfleet regulation,” Bones pressed.

With a sigh, Kirk turned around to face his Chief Medical Officer and best friend. While it was true that Kirk had indeed considered reporting Spock for a breach of Security Protocol 49.09, which governed the treatment of prisoners on-board a starship, he also knew command decisions were not made lightly. Spock honestly believed he’d been making the correct choice for the Enterprise; it was the logical decision. Looking up at Bones, he instantly recognized the determination in his friend’s eyes and it saddened him that the two could not seem to work out their issues. Ever since Kirk had announced Spock as his First Officer, Bones had been relentless in his attempts to rid the Enterprise of the Vulcan. Nothing overt, not from Bones, but Kirk knew him too well to miss the Machiavellian planning going on in Bone’s mind.

“At the time, yes. I was stranded on a frigid planet and my ship was being sent to ‘gather’ with the rest of Starfleet, which I thought was a terrible command choice. I know things now I didn’t know then.”

“Right.”

James T. Kirk, Captain of the _USS Enterprise_ had heard enough out of his CMO. Using his strongest command presence, he turned to face his best friend. “Look, Bones. He’s my First Officer, which makes him _your_ First Officer. You will treat him as a respected member of the Command Crew of this vessel.”

Knowing he’d crossed a line, Bones nodded his head mutely and watched Jim walk away. “Pointy-eared hobgoblin.”

“It wasn’t just an Earth movie,” Sulu told Chekov.

Bones turned toward the sound of approaching voices and gave a tightlipped smile to the young men.

“It vus,” Chekov insisted. “Zere is no such fing as a Goblin King.”

“There is. It’s an old Earth fairy tale. The Goblin King will come and take away someone. Usually a baby. Then the Goblin King will turn that baby into one of his Goblins. If you want to get your baby back, you have to defeat the Labyrinth and make it all the way to the Goblin King’s palace,” Sulu explained.

“Doctor?” Chekov asked, “Vat do you fink?”

“About the Goblin King?” Bones asked rhetorically. He stroked his chin absently as he pretended to think upon the matter. “If the Goblin King does exist, I would want him to take more than babies off my hands. How sure of the myth are you, Sulu?”

“It’s been a while. I could dig up some more information for you, if you’re interested,” Sulu offered.

“Maybe if you show some evidence of the myth, Chekov will be more interested in believing in your fairytale,” Bones offered.  


* * *

  
Jareth, King of the Goblins, smiled to himself. On his screen, he watched the _Enterprise_ enter the space near his planet. It was a rare treat to have a Federation ship so close to his planet. They had been in his planet’s general area for almost a week, and he found himself helplessly drawn to the ship’s inhabitants. Using the inherent magic of his genetic ancestry, he’d observed the actions of many of the ship’s Command Crew. His planet’s invisibility was a little-known fact. His race was a distant relative of human Fairies; from this side, came the planet’s cloaking. The only way to make his planet visible to the naked eye was for someone onboard to be discussing him, or his realm. He watched the small ones walk away from the Doctor. It might be his oddly placed sense of hope, but he assured himself that the Doctor would make a wish of him soon. In order to speed up the process, he decided to assist Sulu in his search for details.

One of the benefits of being created out of myth was his ability to ignore the rules that governed reality. His screen switched to a view of Sulu’s chambers. He noted the distinctly _human_ feel of it, shuddered in distaste, and went about his voyeuristic business. Knowing the amount of sleep humans required was substantial, Jareth decided placing the book upon his pillow would be cliché but effective. If anyone had been in the room, they would have seen a vaguely materialized body, as if the transporter had malfunctioned mid-energize.  


* * *

  
Weary from Alpha Shift, Sulu returned to his room intent upon quickly falling asleep. He absently changed out of his uniform and into his sleep clothes without bothering to turn up the lights. As he searched for a comfortable sleeping position, he felt something hard and sharp poke him in the face.

“Lights fifty percent.”

He lifted up enough to see what had caused the pain. It was a red hardcover book. His eyes widened; it was rare to find an actual book, even rarer to find it in one’s bed. Gently, he traced the lettering on the cover.

“Labyrinth.”

Knowing he’d find little sleep that night, Sulu opened the book and began to read.

  


“It’s all here in the book,” Sulu showed Chekov.

The pair were occupying one of the officer tables in the mess hall.

“Juzt because it iz in ze book, doez not mean it iz true,” Chekov argued, refusing to look at the book Sulu had unceremoniously thrust under his nose.

“What seems to be the trouble here?” Bones asked, clearly amused by their bickering.

“Chekov still doesn’t believe in the Goblin King. I have the proof right here,” Sulu told him. He waved the book dramatically to drive his point home.

“I see,” Bones said, holding his hand out for the book.

With a mildly triumphant smile, Sulu handed the book to the doctor. Bones idly flipped through the first few pages before stopping at what he considered the interesting part. He read the passage to himself, a plan forming in his head. At first, the thought was vague, almost like a dream one tried in vain to hold on to upon waking, but then it became solid. As if struck by a Muse and gifted with instant inspiration, Bones had a plan.

“It says,” Bones began, waiting – ensuring he had the attention of both young men, “that anyone can ask for assistance from the Goblin King.”

“It iz a fairy tale book,” Chekov argued. “Of course it vill say zis.”

Bones glared the disbelieving youth into silence.

“Now, it also says there are right words that must be said in order for the Goblin King to hear the request. It tells the story of a young girl who listened to the whispers of the goblins who told her to say the right words and they would free her.”

“See? Iz just a ridiculous story for ze young girls,” Chekov interrupted.

Bones didn’t even waste a glare this time before he continued. “The young girl fought the temptation of the freedom offered to her by the goblins. She struggled within herself, knowing she mustn’t subject anyone to such a terrible fate. She knew any people taken by the Goblin King would become a goblin themselves. Suffering in silence, the girl endured the torment of her evil stepmother…until one night, when the pressures were too much to endure any further she shouted the words from her balcony window. ‘I can bear it no longer! Goblin King! Goblin King! Wherever you may be take this child of mine far away from me!’”

“Did it work?” Sulu asked, eagerly.

A smile touching his weathered face, Bones glanced briefly from one young face to the next before he continued. “The goblins, who heard her cry, sighed sadly to themselves. ‘That's not it! Where did she get that rubbish? It doesn't even start with "I wish!"’. Of course, the young girl knew she did not say the right words; she was still undecided in her heart. Frustrated, the girl turned to her baby brother, the bane of her cloistered existence, and whispered, ‘I wish I did know the right words to make the Goblin King come and take you away.’ Incidentally, those were the right words. The Goblin King had been summoned.”

“Did he take ze baby?” Chekov asked, finding himself unexplainably drawn to the tale.

“He did,” Sulu answered, bubbling with excitement. “He took the child away from the girl. But, she wanted to get her brother back…so she entered the Goblin King’s labyrinth in order to find him. She defeated the labyrinth and the Goblin King was forced to return her brother to her.”

“I thought you didn’t know the legend of the Goblin King,” Bones observed, mild amusement coloring his voice.

“I read the book after Alpha shift,” Sulu admitted.

“So, zis Goblin King takes ze babies and turns zem into goblins?” Chekov asked. The three had a shift to report to, and decided to move their conversation to the bridge.

“Yes. He needs them, usually babies, to turn into goblins. According to the legend that is how goblins began…they were the forgotten children, orphans,” Sulu answered.

“Ze poor babies,” Chekov whispered with a sad voice.

Jim looked up from his PADD when Chekov and Sulu entered the bridge. He observed the intently distracted look on their faces, as if they were trying to puzzle out something.

“Ensign Chekhov?” Jim asked.

“Yes, sir?” the Ensign asked, with a slight jump.

“Is everything okay? You seem…distracted,” Jim said carefully.

“Everyzing is fine, sir.”

“We were discussing the Goblin King,” Sulu offered with a sheepish smile. “We will resume our conversation once our shift is over, Captain.”

Jim nodded. He had no idea why two of his officers would spend their off time discussing an old Earth fairy tale, but free time was to be spent however they deemed necessary so long as it didn’t break any _serious_ Starfleet rules. He looked around at his Command Crew as they settled into their positions. Spock, behind him at the science station, raised an eyebrow at Sulu’s announcement. The shake of his head was imperceptible to most, but Jim noticed. Undoubtedly, the Vulcan found the discussion of such things _illogical_ at any time. A small smile graced the Captain’s lips. While he and Spock still had a lot of ground to cover as far as their relationship was concerned, the pair had made great strides toward a deep and lasting friendship.

“Sir,” Spock began, waiting for his Captain to acknowledge him.

“Yes, Mister Spock?” Jim asked as he spun his chair around to face his First Officer.

“I detect a new planet.”

Jim squinted his eyes in concentration. The expression on Spock’s face was nearly one of surprise. Nothing ever surprised the Vulcan – except for Jim’s over-active emotions and reckless decisions, but that was a different matter entirely.

“A new planet? New to us or new to the universe, Mister Spock?”

“I would say new to the universe, Captain, but that is an improbable statement. The planet appears to be old, ancient by Standard years. It, however, did not appear on my radar until moments ago.”

If it were possible for the Captain’s grin to become any wider, it did. He could barely believe his luck. They had been sent out past the planet Oruits to see if there were any inhabited planets beyond the Federation’s newest ally. No one thought there could be a planet so far away from the more centralized planetary systems. They were wrong.

“Mister Spock, see what kind of readings you can gather from the planet. I want to know if it has any inhabitants. Scan the atmosphere and see if you can offer me any visuals of the planet.”

“Right away, Captain.”

The whole bridge waited, a ripple of excitement traveling through the crew. It had been quite a while since they had encountered anything new. Their most recent missions had been diplomatic or simple milk runs. For the crew of the _Enterprise_ those were necessary, but frankly unacceptable.

“The atmosphere appears to be similar to that of Vulcan II, but the topography is closer to that of Earth. I have been able to capture an image from the planet’s surface,” Spock informed his Captain.

“Put it up on the screen,” Kirk ordered.

Chekov and Sulu gasped as the image came into focus on the screen.

“It’s the labyrinth!”

“Ze Goblin King castle!”

“Mister Spock?” Jim asked.

“I am unfamiliar with the references offered by both Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Chekov.”

“Well?” Jim prompted, his captain voice coming out.

“Sir,” Sulu said as he spun around to face the captain, “Earlier Chekov and I were discussing the Goblin King myth because of a book I found in my bed. Chekov was unconvinced about the myth’s truth, and I was trying to convince him that it was in fact true. The image on the screen looks like the picture of the labyrinth that leads to the Goblin King’s castle.”

“Chekov?”

“Is true, sir.”

“Where is this book now?” Jim asked.

“Doctor McCoy had the book during breakfast this morning, Keptin,” Chekov answered.

Jim nodded. “Kirk to medical bay.”

“Bones here,” Bones responded.

“You’re needed on the bridge.”

“I have a sickbay to run, Jim.”

“Bring the book.”

“For the love of all – ”

“Bones! Bring the damn book! Kirk out.”

No one said anything. No one dared to breathe. It was a rare occasion that the captain lost his temper with their cantankerous Chief Medical Officer. After several, long, tense minutes, the doors to the bridge slid open.

“What in the name of God is that?” Bones asked as he saw the image on the screen.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, Bones,” Jim answered dryly.

“Here,” Bones offered the book to Jim absently. His attention riveted to the screen.

“Sir?” Spock asked, “Why are we searching for answers in a book about myth?”

“Spock,” Jim said, “The planet didn’t exist until minutes ago, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the image on the screen comes from the planet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then, explain to me how an image from a planet that simply appeared can also be in a book about a myth?”

Spock stood from his chair and walked to where Jim was holding the book. He took the book from Jim’s hands and quickly read through the tale of the Goblin King and the girl who beat his labyrinth. There, in the middle of the book, was an illustration which appeared to be an exact depiction of what they were all seeing on the screen.

“This is highly illogical, Captain. I can offer no explanation.”

“Are you telling me that the planet – ” Bones pointed to the screen, “is the planet of the Goblin King?”

“I’m not hearing any competing explanations,” Jim responded, hardly believing it himself.

“I told you it was real,” Sulu told Chekov.

“There must be a logical explanation. There is no evidence that the image in the book and the image from the planet are in any way related by anything other than coincidence. Perhaps whoever wrote the book had been to this planet and thus drew their inspiration from it.”

“I think,” Jim began, “the planet may be what started the Goblin King myth.”

“Captain, you cannot be considering their theory seriously.”

“Think about it, Spock. You yourself told me, and I quote: ‘once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth’. While it is impossible for these two pictures to be the same thing, there is no other explanation.”

“Making a decision based on such unfounded theories is not an advisable course of action, Captain,” Spock argued.

“I am open to a better suggestion, Commander,” Jim responded, using a forceful version of his “Captain” voice.

“We must take the time to gather more information from the surface of the planet. It is not logical to make a decision based upon so few facts, sir,” Spock continued.

“And when you pick up an image of a goblin, will you believe the book and the planet are related? Or will you still need time to gather more evidence?”

“I think a verified image of a native inhabitant would be sufficient evidence to support your theory, Captain.”

“Well so long as Commander Spock thinks an actual sighting would suffice,” Jim retorted.

Bones watched the two bicker. It amazed him that Jim would endure such blatant disrespect on his own bridge. He was the captain, and if he thought the planet was based on some myth in a book, then it was captain’s prerogative to think so. He thought that perhaps the Vulcan would add some stability to Jim’s rash decisions, but instead it seemed that the Commander was intent upon undermining the captain’s authority at every possible moment.

“If it is the planet of the Goblin King,” Bones muttered, “I wish he’d take away the pointy-eared hobgoblin.”

“Captain, I fail to understand – ”

Jim blinked a couple of times. Jim blinked several more times.

“Spock?”

The Vulcan was gone.

 **Part 2**

“Fascinating,” Spock said once he’d observed his surroundings.

“Indeed,” a man with shockingly blond gravity-defying hair agreed.

In his usual calm, self-possessed manner, Spock observed the man standing before him. The hair alone defied all laws of logic known to the Vulcan, but given recent events, he found himself unsurprised. The clothing boggled the Commander’s mind; it appeared, beyond simply being uncomfortable, to have no purpose other than garishness. During his time on the _Enterprise_ , Spock had encountered numerous cultures, civilizations and peoples, each with their own unique flavor; however, nothing in his experience had prepared him for such exaggerated dress. From his quick glace around the room, excess seemed the most appropriate descriptor.

“How did you bring me here?” Spock inquired.

“I have my ways,” the man answered.

“Am I correct in assuming you to be the Goblin King?” Spock asked.

“Indeed you are,” the man said with a hint of pride.

“How does your planet’s cloaking device work? I have never before seen one quite so effective,” Spoke observed.

“I fear your logic would deprive you of any true understanding of my methods.”

“My logic?”

“You are a Vulcan.”

“I am.”

“Many aspects of my planet defy the notions so praised by those bound by logic. I believe your Captain would have a much easier time understanding the specifics of my cloaking device.”

Spock simply raised an eyebrow.

“In fact,” the Goblin King continued, “I believe your Captain will be contacting me in the very near future.”

The feline smile on the Goblin King’s face bothered Spock. Although it was an irrational response, the way the man said _Captain_ also bothered him. He needed to find the transport pad, or the communications center. He needed to get back to the _Enterprise_ and her Captain. It was obvious the planet was inhabited.  


* * *

  
“Someone tell me what just happened,” Jim demanded, all pretence of composure gone.

“Scotty to the bridge.”

“Scotty, this is the Captain…tell me you know what just happened.”

“Sir, my guess is the planet has a teleporter system far more advanced than our own. I think Spock was transported to the planet.”

“Beam him back, Scotty.”

“I tried, sir.”

“Try again.”

“I cannot beam him back aboard, sir.”

“See what you can find out about their transporter ability, Mister Scott.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Kirk out.”

“Lieutenant, hail the main building. See if anyone’s home.”

Uhura nodded, and spun around to face her station. “Yes, Captain.”

Jim forced himself to stay in his chair. The urge to pace back and forth was nearly overwhelming. He knew he needed to remain calm, at least on the surface, for the good of the crew. He didn’t have Spock behind him to give him that silent, but controlled, reassuring presence. Not surprisingly, he found he missed the almost detached professionalism his First Officer displayed during tense situations. At first, Jim had found the Vulcan’s lack of reaction frustrating, but he had quickly come to depend upon that calm to be his center, his grounding.

“Hailing them now, Captain,” Uhura announced.

Jim sat up in his chair, back straight and waited for Spock’s abductors to appear on the screen.

“I’m James T. Kirk, Captain of the _USS Enterprise_.”

“Of course you are,” the Goblin King responded.

Jim forced himself to maintain eye contact as the being’s hot gaze scorched him from head to toe. He was Captain of this ship and he would not be intimidated by a _goblin_ , even if the goblin did look as though he wanted nothing more than to strip off all of Jim’s clothes and pound him into the wall.

“You are known as the Goblin King?” Jim asked, pleased and amazed that his voice was sure.

“I am Jareth, the Goblin King,” he answered.

“Where is Commander Spock?” Jim demanded.

“Tsk, tsk,” Jareth scolded. “Where are your manners, Captain? We haven’t even finished the preliminaries.”

Jim settled back into his chair. Apparently, Jareth thought they were engaged in some sort of game. He’d play long enough to get his First Officer back, and then he’d load that planet so full of photons it would never reappear.

“I see I have your attention now, Captain. I do indeed have your Commander, but your tone is unnecessary. I have broken no law. He was given to me.”

“Given to you?” Jim exclaimed as he jumped from his chair. “You listen to me, Jareth, King of the Goblins. You will return Commander Spock to the _Enterprise_ or I will eradicate your planet forever.”

Jareth smiled lasciviously at the Captain of the _Enterprise_. Humans were full of such scintillating emotions, and were so eager to express themselves. Jareth couldn’t have torn his eyes away from the fire burning in James T. Kirk’s eyes if his life and planet depended upon it.

“No need for threats, dear boy. I assure you, I was given your Commander freely.”

“I never _gave_ you the Commander.”

A laugh, full of evil intent bubbled from Jareth. “I never said it was _you_.” Jareth turned his gaze to the one who’d asked for his assistance.

Jim followed Jareth’s gaze, and couldn’t help the shock on his face when the reality of the situation registered in his brain.

“Bones?” Jim asked.

“I didn’t believe in it, Jim,” Bones answered, voice broken.

Jim nodded once before turning his gaze back to the Goblin King. “You are a myth.”

“The events of today would prove otherwise, would they not, Captain?”

“I want Commander Spock back.”

“What’s said, is said.”

“I don’t think you heard me, Jareth. I want Commander Spock back. I will get him back to his rightful place on this ship. You can either cooperate by beaming him back aboard this ship, or I will destroy your planet piece by piece until I find him.”

Jareth’s eyes closed involuntarily as the heat of Kirk’s words flowed over him. He knew the human would do exactly as he promised, and the prospect sent a chill of anticipation shooting down his spine. It had been far too many years since he had been in the presence of one so incandescently human.

“Are you going to send Spock back?” Jim asked, his voice demanding.

“Jim,” Jareth responded, eyes flashing, “Stay on your ship and forget about the Commander.”

“You know I won’t do that.”

“Did you ever consider that the Doctor may be right?”

Jim refused to answer the clearly loaded question.

Jareth inclined his head, acknowledging the human’s show of defiance. “The Commander undermines your authority. He questions all of the decisions you make. He marooned you on a dangerous planet. He accused you of cheating. Clearly, he does not think you are fit to captain a starship.”

“Is that a no?” Jim asked, fake curiosity and obvious sarcasm lacing his voice.

“I have a present for you,” Jareth told Jim.

Eyes drawn together in confusion, Jim nearly leapt out of his skin as a clearly foreign object materialized in his hand.

“What is it?”

“It’s a communicator. Turn it on and it will allow you to talk with your heart’s desire.”

“Bribery won’t work, Jareth. I will find Spock. Then I will destroy your planet and erase your memory from the myths of earth.”

“Don’t defy me, Jim.”

The spherical communicator in Jim’s hand heated up so high, so quickly that Jim nearly cursed and dropped it. At the last moment, he managed to toss it safely onto his chair. The heat from the burn still stung his skin.

“You’re no match for me, Jim.”

“I want my First Officer back.”

Jareth rolled his shoulders to relieve some of the tension building in them. The human was tenacious, and oddly enough, Jareth found him more and more attractive for it. He moved to the side and swept his arm outward. “He’s there.”

Jim watched Jareth point to a castle nestled in the middle of a labyrinth. For a moment so brief, Jim dared to discount it, he felt complete and utter desolation. In that moment, he doubted his ability to save his Commander, his friend. Perhaps because of that moment, Jim squared his shoulders and tilted his head defiantly.

“In your castle, at the end of the labyrinth.”

Brief as it was, Jareth had noticed Jim’s momentary lapse of bravado. It was that pure _humanity_ that forced Jareth to offer him one last chance to leave with his ship and go peacefully along their way.

“Do you still want to look for him?”

Jim steeled his gaze. He knew he had to get Spock back. “Yes.”

Defeated, Jareth hung his head. After a moment, he looked back up at Jim. “So be it.”

In the blink of an eye, Jim found himself in a strange place, the familiar setting of his ship long gone. The area around him was hued with dark oranges and reds as if the sun were rising on the eve of a great and terrible battle. Desolate land lay before, behind and on either side of him as if the very planet sucked the vitality from every organism that dared to attempt life on it. Atop a small mountain stood the Goblin King’s castle; it was an imposing stone structure with a circular dais in the very center that appeared to reach longingly for the sky. Surrounding the castle was the labyrinth, an imposing maze of stonewalls meandering forever in all directions. The sight was dizzying, but Jim fought to maintain his composure.

“Turn back, Jim,” Jareth said, a tiny note of pleading in his voice.

Jim turned to face the Goblin King, his face a mask of determination.

“Turn back before it’s too late.”

“I can’t do that.”

Jareth reached out and tenderly caressed Jim’s cheek. “What a pity.”

Shocked by his actions, Jim stood perfectly still. The tumultuous emotions playing across the Goblin King’s face were enough to make even Jim question the _logic_ of his choice. Regardless of the consequences, which he knew could be dire, Jim had to find Spock. There was simply no alternative.

“It doesn’t look that far,” Jim announced, more to himself than Jareth.

“It’s further than you think,” Jareth whispered into Jim’s ear.

At his nearness, Jim shuddered involuntarily. The whispered words danced across his senses. No matter how absolutely insane this whole planet was, he refused to leave it without Spock. For as crazy as it sounded, Jim had come to rely upon Spock, and as more than just a First Officer. He was an excellent companion, and offered a different level of interaction from other members of the crew. While Jim thought of each member of his crew as family, especially the Command Crew, Spock was important to him for the same and entirely different reasons.

“Time is short.”

Noticing the distance between himself and the voice, Jim turned to face Jareth. He was standing next to a nearly dead tree. An ornate clock appeared suspended in the air near the tree.

“You have thirteen hours in which to solve the labyrinth before your Commander becomes one of us forever,” Jareth dictated, his voice fading with his body into nothingness.

Jim looked down at the sphere in his hands. It was the gift the Goblin King had given to him, and while he didn’t remember picking it up, he wasn’t going to question having the communicator with him.

“It’s not going to get any closer by looking at it,” Jim announced to himself as he began the descent into the labyrinth.  


* * *

  
“I do love your Captain’s spirit,” Jareth informed Spock as he materialized in the throne room where he’d left the Vulcan.

“The Captain can be an immovable force,” Spock agreed.

“You were wished away by a member of your crew.”

“I am aware, as you knew I would be, Jareth. You did leave the monitor on so that I might witness your communication with the _Enterprise_.”

“You don’t seem nearly as upset by the betrayal as you should,” Jareth observed. “I wonder if the Doctor would have fought so tenaciously to have you back aboard the ship.”

“What’s done cannot be undone by a simple expression of emotion,” Spock said. “In any case, I do not believe the doctor meant to have me removed from the ship.”

“Come now, surely you know he wanted you out of the way. You are a threat to his relationship with the Captain.”

“I was unaware the Doctor and the Captain were in a relationship. I would not do anything to prohibit the Captain’s happiness.”

“Oh, but you will. The Captain is on his way through the labyrinth to rescue you from me,” Jareth laughed. “Because of his loyalty to you, he will endure great unhappiness.”

“That is by your doing, not by mine. I can no more control the Captain’s irrational actions than can you. He refused your offers to turn back multiple times.”

“He will come to regret that choice. He will come to regret it deeply.”

 **Part 3**

The closer Jim came to the labyrinth, the more he wished Spock were with him. While he had an above-average IQ (genius, one might argue), he had nothing on Spock. Soon after the Narada incident, Jim had convinced Spock to play chess with him. He’d tried hundreds of times to get Bones to play with him, but the man simply refused to put any effort into it. While Jim loved winning, he wanted to win a fight, not a surrender. Perhaps it was the Vulcan’s genetic ability to multi-task that gave him the edge while playing chess; whatever it was, Jim was more than pleased to have a competent chess mate. Although recently, Spock had been decidedly more distracted during their games, and Jim had noticed the number of games he won had increased. It wasn’t any of his business, not really, but Jim had noticed Spock and Uhura were spending less time together than they had immediately following the Nerada incident. While it wasn’t his place to babysit the crew’s relationships, he was concerned that the pair might have split up…explaining Spock’s unusual behavior. He promised himself to pay closer attention to the finer aspects of Spock’s person once they were both safely back on the _Enterprise_.

He ignored the sharp pain in his chest at the thought of Bones. He knew the man hadn’t intentionally sent Spock off of the ship, but it still hurt to know his best friend just couldn’t make nice with his First Officer. He also forced himself to not think about his crew, alone on the _Enterprise_ without their Captain, or their First Officer. They were a good crew, and would be able to handle the separation with dignity and professionalism. And, on the off chance that his crew proved him wrong, he could just about guarantee that Bones would have no issue sticking a hypo in the neck of each and every unruly crew member. He smiled at the thought.

The sound of water pulled Jim from his thoughts. He looked around for the source, originally thinking the planet too arid for natural water sources. Upon seeing the source of both the sound and the liquid, Captain James T. Kirk stopped short. In front of him stood a squatcreature with wrinkled skin, urinating into some sort of rectangular pond. The creature, whose grey hair was covered by a filthy hat, had no idea he wasn’t alone, whistling a jaunty tune to himself. Now the Captain simply felt awkward.

“Excuse me,” Jim said.

The creature started a little, quickly finished up his business and muttered something that might have been, “Excuse me indeed.”

“Do you always – relieve yourself outside?” Jim asked, curious.

“Oh, it’s you,” the creature said dismissively.

“Do you know me?”

“You’re here for the Vulcan. Everyone knows that.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Jim didn’t know what to say.

“And, yes I do always pee outside. Don’t see any bathrooms around now do you? This here is the bathroom.”

Mutely, Jim nodded. Crazy King of the Goblins taking Spock he could handle with some sort of control. One minute with a native, and he was…Chekov. Mentally, Jim shook himself. He would not lose it now; he was a Captain.

“Since you know I’m here for the Commander, do you know how to get to the castle?”

“’Course I know how to get to the castle.”

“Will you show me how to get to the castle?”

“No.”

“No?”

“That’s what I said. Not going anywhere near Jareth and his new Vulcan. Nope.”

“What kind of coward are you?”

“The good kind.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Not horrible, Hoggle.”

“Your name is Hoggle?”

“Yes. And I’m the good kind of coward because I’m _always_ a coward. None of this halfway business.”

“And you’re afraid of what Jareth will do to you if you help me.”

“Yes.”Jim pinched the bridge of his nose, the only outward indication of his mounting irritation. He watched as Hoggle wandered around the base of the wall spraying little bugs or something (Jim couldn’t quite tell). He appeared to be keeping a tally of the number of little things he sprayed. Eventually, Jim promised himself he’d cease finding so many things about this planet odd.

“Can you at least tell me how I get into the labyrinth?”

Hoggle paused, mid-spray. “Ahh, now that’s more like it.”

With a hint of irritation coloring his face, Jim watched as Hoggle hobbled over to a different section of the wall.

“You gets in there.”

The little creature moved his arm up and out towards a section of the wall to Jim’s left. A seam could be seen in an arch and soon it split wide open into a double-door entrance. On each of the doors were dead vines, which appeared to chase each other up the wall, the vines becoming smaller as they wove their way to the top.

“You, uh, really going in there are you?” Hoggle asked, voice curious.

Jim took a couple of steps closer to the open door as he pondered the creature’s question. Was he really going into the labyrinth? Yes. Was this whole planet impossible? Yes. Did he want to go in there? No. Not that what he wanted would change his resolve, he _would_ return Spock to the _Enterprise_. The way Jareth acted around him made the hairs on the back of Jim’s neck stand at attention. It wasn’t so much the sinister nature of his carefully veiled threats, or his apparent power over everything that happened on, or around his planet, no. It was his calm. No matter what Jim said, or how he defied the Goblin King’s wishes, the creature had maintained an eerie calm. Spock had told the Captain on several occasions that his ability to agitate others was second to none. So why were his abilities ineffective against the Goblin King? He’d find out after he had Spock back by his side where he belonged.

“Yes. If this is the way to the Goblin King’s castle, then I must go inside the labyrinth. I will see my First Officer safely back aboard the ship.”

Jim walked slowly through the entranceway. Upon closer examination of the doors, it seemed as though the vines were not as dead as he’d originally thought. Instead, small, pink flowers blossomed on the vines closest to the top of the door. Once he was through the entryway, the labyrinth began with a never-ending straight path to the left and to the right. The path was not very wide, maybe enough room for two people standing shoulder to shoulder to walk. Tentatively, he took a few steps to the left, hoping he’d see some sort of turn, or door. Finding nothing, he repeated the process to the right.

“Now,” Hoggle began.

Jim started slightly when he heard the grumpy old creature’s voice. He hung his head when he heard the creature’s derisive laughter.

“Would you go left or right?” Hoggle asked in a tone that clearly stated he didn’t believe Jim could make the right decision if he was given a cheat sheet.

Jim, having already looked down each path, shook his head gently. They looked exactly the same to him. It was an unending path surrounded by brick walls.

“Which way would you go?” Jim asked Hoggle.

“Me?” he asked, pointed to himself. “I wouldn’t go either way.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Jim muttered.  
 

*          *          *

  
From his place in the throne room Spock watched his Captain interact with the creature known as Hoggle. Jareth had insisted upon watching his struggle through the entire labyrinth. While Spock was pleased to at least have this much access to his Captain, it disturbed him that he could be of no assistance. As First Officer, it was incumbent upon him to see to the wellbeing of his Captain. From his current, captive, position, he could not complete his duty and was subsequently rendered useless. He allowed himself the small consolation of  knowing that while Jareth was in the room with him it meant the Goblin King was not out in the labyrinth with his Captain. While he knew the emotion of jealousy was as illogical as it was unfounded, he couldn’t seem to repress it to the extent he desired. When Jareth had ever so gently caressed his Captain’s face, Spock had felt an anger he’d not felt since his mother’s death.

“Are you enjoying the show?” Jareth asked.

“As there is nothing I can do from my position, feeling any sort of emotion from simply viewing the Captain’s progress would not assist anything and is therefore irrelevant.”

“My my,” Jareth mused, “I think you have a greater attachment to the human than I thought. What a pity.”

“What about my perceived attachment to the Captain is cause for your pity?”

”I am intrigued by your Captain,” Jareth responded, ignoring Spock’s question. “I must admit, I find him a bit irresistible.”

Again, Spock fought down the emotions raging inside of him. It was entirely possible the Goblin King said such things simply to elicit some sort of reaction from his captive. The logic was sound; from what Spock had seen of Jareth, he was one for superfluous games and intrigues. Unfortunately, Spock felt another likely conclusion, however distasteful, was that Jareth was sincere in his pursuit of the Captain.

“If you are intrigued by the Captain, why do you not simply inform him? Surely that would be a more effective method than forcing him through your labyrinth,” Spock questioned mildly.

Jareth laughed at Spock’s question. While Vulcans were known for their ability to repress their emotions, he knew how deeply they ran. It was a simple matter to discover the depths of the human’s affection for the Vulcan before him; it was only slightly more difficult to discover the Vulcan shared his Captain’s feelings. If anything, this knowledge gave Jareth an even stronger reason to have the human for his own, as his consort. Any human so desired must be worth having. In time, the human would come to appreciate all Jareth could offer, and on his planet, they had all the time in the world.

“Your Captain is particularly stubborn, Spock. His misguided heroics have him coming to your rescue. Soon, though, I will be the one he will cry out to; I will be the one he seeks when the horrors of the labyrinth become overwhelming.”

“You underestimate Captain Kirk, Jareth,” Spock warned. “The Captain has a most uncanny ability to surmount any obstacle placed before him. I assure you, he will not require your assistance.”

“You mistake me. I do not doubt your Captain’s fortitude. You underestimate the power of my labyrinth. A mistake I think you and your Captain share.”  
 

*          *          *

  
“Would you not go either way because you’re afraid of Jareth or because there’s another way to go?” Jim asked.

Hoggle’s eyes widened. The human wasn’t supposed to be clever. Jareth hadn’t said nothing about a clever human.

“There is another way.”

“No there isn’t.”

“Liar.”

“Hoggle isn’t lying. There ain’t no other way. You can go left or right.”

“No, there’s another way. You hesitated. Hoggle, tell me how to get into the labyrinth.”

“You know what your problem is?” Hoggle asked.

“I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”

“You take too many things for granted. Take this labyrinth for instance. Even if you get to the center, you’ll never get out again.”

Jim smirked. “That’s your opinion.”

“Well, it’s a lot better than yours!”

“I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

“Well maybe you should.”

Jim watched, silently amused, as Hoggle waddled back towards the door.

“Thanks for nothing, Hogwart,” Jim called.

As expected, the little creature stopped. “Grrr, oh it’s HOGGLE.”

Jim smirked.

“And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With that, the little creature left Jim alone in the labyrinth. He heard the large doors shut and was momentarily concerned that his exit had been cut off; however, he quickly discarded that notion because the immediate goal was to reach the center. Once he had Spock at his side, they would deal with finding an exit.

Jim reached into his pocket and drew out a coin. It was his lucky coin, which of course Spock had scoffed at, claiming it was illogical to believe an inanimate object held any sort of mystical powers. Either way, he’d had the coin since his first day at the Academy. He felt the comforting weight of it in his hand.

“Heads, I’ll go right. Tails, I’ll go left.”

With that decided, he launched the coin into the air. He watched as it tumbled down and landed back in his hand. Before looking at it, he braced himself with a deep breath, practicing one of those deep breathing exercises Spock had been forcing him to learn.

“Heads it is.”

Jim took off to the right. He supposed he could simply turn around and head the other direction if the right path proved to be the incorrect choice. Oblivious to the eye creatures residing in the cracks of the stone wall, Jim continued walking down the passageway. An odd feeling tugged at his gut, almost as though he was being watched. He shook the feeling, refusing to be distracted by things beyond his control. It wouldn’t surprise him if Jareth was watching his progress; in fact, it would make sense for the Goblin King to keep an eye on him.

As the path continued, Jim allowed his mind to wander. He wondered how Spock was faring, if the Goblin King was treating him well. Again, his thoughts sought out his crew and he idly wondered how many were sleeping soundly due to the administration of a hypo to the neck. He desperately hoped Bones knew Jim wasn’t upset with him. He knew his CMO hadn’t intentionally sent Spock off the ship. He was gruff sure, but that was simply his exterior. Deep down, perhaps deeper than most, he cared deeply for all members of the crew. His fierce loyalty to Jim made him bristle at Spock’s actions, but Jim never doubted Spock’s loyalty for a moment. Many times, he valued the questions Spock raised, especially since Jim had a tendency to leap without looking. No matter how much Spock disagreed with, or found Jim’s orders highly illogical, he followed them to the best of his ability.

Time passed without meaning as Jim continued down the narrow corridor.

“What kind of labyrinth goes in a straight line?” Jim groused. He knew he was wasting precious time, and was coming no closer to the center of anything. His renewed sense of urgency forced him to increase his pace until the Captain was fairly flying down the long path.

In his haste, he failed to notice the roots and other debris covering the ground, and his foot caught on one of the lone roots, forcing the Captain face first to the ground.

“Umpf,” Jim groaned upon impact. Dazed, he remained on the ground for a moment before struggling to his feet.

“Yep, really glad no one saw that,” Jim told himself as he brushed dirt off his knees.

“I’m hurt,” Jareth said from behind Jim.

“You’re hurt?” Jim asked, whirling to face him.

“I’m hardly nobody, Jim.”

“Become so bored ruling your planet, you needed to come here and gloat?”

Jareth crowded Jim against the wall. “Now, Jim, let’s not be testy. I simply wanted to come by and see how you were faring.”

“You know damn well how I’m _faring_. Damn thing goes on forever…which I’m sure you planned.”

“Tsk, tsk. You’re simply not looking properly,” Jareth told Jim. He smiled as he felt Jim stiffen and press himself further into the wall in a futile attempt to create space between their bodies.

“There are entrances all around you,” Jareth whispered into Jim’s ear. He delighted in the shiver he felt course through the young human.

“Don’t suppose you’d tell me where they are?” Jim asked, his voice breathier than he’d like.

“That would be cheating,” Jareth smiled. He pulled his face back an inch to look into the Captain’s blue eyes. “Even if there is one staring you in the face.”

“Sorry,” Jim replied, his most charming smile on his face, “you’re not my type.”

Jareth basked in Jim’s smile, even though it was a pretense, for a moment before leaning in and biting his earlobe. “What a pity.”

Jim blinked and Jareth was gone. No teleporter he knew of allowed instant dematerialization. Unbelievable planet. He shook his head to clear the vision of Jareth from his mind. He looked around the area closely. In spite of the Goblin King’s games, he had to have told Jim the truth. An entrance had to be around here somewhere.

“Staring you in the face,” Jim repeated, ignoring the double entendre.

He moved forward, hand held out in front of him. A section of the wall had a wet spot in the middle that appeared nowhere else on the wall. He placed his hands above the wet spot and moved forward slowly. He passed through nothing, but found a new path which lead to the left and to the right. Keeping with tradition, he pulled the coin from his pocket once more. He watched it spin through the air, and wasted no time before seeing the result.

“Heads.”

Jim shook his head, wondering if the planet somehow made the coin always point to heads. The odds were against such a thing, but Jim refused to take anything on this planet on faith. He did, however, trust his lucky coin.

“I hope you’re this way, Spock,” Jim whispered as he began walking down the right hand path.  
 **Part 4**

Spock was unable to restrain the growl emanating from his lips. That _thing_ had the nerve to touch _his_ Captain in a wholly inappropriate manner. He could also not stop the mantra of “mine, mine, mine, mine” from chorusing in his mind. Aside from his Captain’s disinterest in the Goblin King, such intimate actions were reserved for him. A frown marred Spock’s brow as his possessive feelings fully registered. Illogical as it was for him to harbor fond feelings for his commanding officer, it was futile to deny them any longer. He resolved to inform his Captain of his feelings once they were reunited. He had no doubt about their being reunited. He had full confidence in his Captain.

“How have you resisted him?” Jareth asked, breathlessly as he rematerialized in the room.

“I fail to understand your query,” Spock responded, careful to mask his emotions.

“Your Captain is so virile. So _human_. How have you resisted making him your mate for so long?”

“The Captain and I are not so intimately familiar with one another for such things,” Spock replied stoically.

“Oh, but you wish you were,” Jareth pronounced cruelly. “I will enjoy watching your unrequited longing as I seduce your Captain.”

Knowing responding would be unwise, Spock simply raised an eyebrow in response. He could not be certain his Captain returned his feelings, after all, he would have gone through the labyrinth for any member of his crew. His unwavering loyalty to the crew was one of the traits Spock found most attractive about his Captain. It was possible to use Jareth’s affection for his Captain to his advantage. He had observed Jareth reveal the entrance, even if he had also been forced to witness the creature grope his Captain.

“I wonder, Jareth, does your labyrinth offer gifts of seduction to aide you in securing the Captain’s affections?”

“You witnessed his helplessness when he was in my embrace, Vulcan. The labyrinth will strip him of himself until all he knows is what I give to him. Every grace I offer to him will be the sweetest seduction imaginable.”

“You neglected to account for the Captain’s reaction. He claimed you were ‘not his type’, to borrow his phrase.”

“I am up to the challenge,” Jareth scoffed.

“I believe you will need to be, Jareth. I do not believe the Captain’s affections will be given lightly, if they are to be given at all.”

In a rare show of his true emotions, Jareth leveled Spock with a glare and was surprised to see the indifference on the Vulcan’s face. He was Jareth, King of the Goblins and he would have the human.

“No matter,” Jareth said. “In nine hours and twenty-three minutes, you both will be mine.”  
 

*          *          *

  
The area surrounding Jim finally matched what he’d imaged a labyrinth to look like. It still had the stone walls, but the maze was clearly pronounced. Instead of dirt covered with debris, the ground was composed of stone slabs. Jim made a mental note to refrain from running in this section of the labyrinth as well, no need to give Jareth any additional amusement at his expense. Grotesque, knobby hands with fingers pointing in all directions stood out from the stone pillars that littered the labyrinth. Amazed, Jim spun around, taking in the grandeur of it all. His eyes stopped as he gazed upon the castle. While it was closer, it was still too far away for his comfort, and since Jareth had taken the magical clock of doom with him, Jim had no way of knowing how much time he had left.

“Spock,” he whispered, the longing in his voice allowable since none of the crew were around to witness it. “I’m coming for you, Spock.”

He chose a path that appeared to lead toward the castle. Instead of moving in a straight line, Jim wandered in a haphazard manner, never knowing which paths he’d taken and which he hadn’t. More frustratingly, he found he had nothing to use to mark his way. He couldn’t decide what part he found more frustrating, the straight, never ending path, or the meandering nightmare he was currently experiencing. This place challenged his belief in no-win scenarios in ways the Kobayashi Maru never could. Perhaps it was the complete solitude more than the endless dead ends. Even when missions were going horribly wrong, Jim was accustomed to having a crew with him. Here, he was alone with his thoughts.

“What a horrible place this is,” Jim mused aloud.

“That’s right, it is horrible,” a distinctly Scottish voice agreed.

For a heartbeat, Jim thought he was back on his ship waking from a nightmare. Regrettably, he knew better. He turned to face the voice, knowing it wasn’t Scotty, but he felt the disappointment just the same. Before him were two doors, in front of which stood two shields. The shield on the left was red, bearing a diamond in its center while the one on the right was blue and contained a rounded rectangle. Behind each shield were two heads, one on the top and one on the bottom. Apparently, each shield required two creatures to hold it up.

“But that’s only half of it,” the red head on the bottom of the shield continued.

Jim shook his head. Things in this place kept changing, and as much as he tried to keep up, he simply couldn’t.

“But, this was a dead end a moment ago,” Jim told them

“No,” the lower blue head corrected. “That’s the dead end behind you.”

Jim spun around to a dead end. It wasn’t so much that he doubted the…he couldn’t think of an appropriate name for the creatures who spoke to him. He just hadn’t expected the dead end to be quite so close.

“Now what?”

“Well, the only way out of here is to try one of these doors,” the red head on the bottom of the shield told him.

“The question was sort of rhetorical,” Jim told them.

“Rhetorical was it? Then you shouldn’t be saying it aloud, then,” the same head continued.

Jim could only shake his head.

“One of the doors leads to the center of the labyrinth…and the other leads to certain death,” the lower blue head informed him.

“You oughtn’t be telling him that,” the other scolded.

“And why not? It’s the truth.”

“Well that hardly matters.”

“He has to go through one of the doors, hasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Then he needs to be told.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Jim interrupted. “If you could just tell me which door will take me to Jareth’s castle, I’ll leave you two to continue your discussion in private.”

“We can’t tell you,” the red head on the bottom of the shield informed Jim.

Jim moved closer to the doors. He didn’t quite trust the waver in the creature’s voice. As an expert in _implying_ relative, near-truths, he knew a lie when he heard one. Well, most of the time at least.

“Why?”

“Uh, because we don’t know.”

“But, they do,” the blue head on the bottom of the shield offered as he glanced up at his counterpart.

“No, er, ah, you can’t ask us,” the upper red head explained. “You can only ask one of us.”

“Yeah!” the blue head on the top of the shield exclaimed. “It’s in the rules.”

“What rules?” Jim asked, skeptical.

“The rules of asking questions in the labyrinth, o’course,” the blue head on the bottom told Jim.

“Funny that you’re the first creatures I’ve encountered in the labyrinth which have bothered to mention these _rules_.”

“Er, uh, it’s our job to mention the rules,” the red head on top of the shield added.

“Ah, and I’m sure that is also in the rules?”

“Yes,” all four heads agreed.

“You know, I think Jareth told you not to tell me which way to go. I think, like Hoggle, you’re afraid of him.” Jim paused. “Or, you’re just insane.”

He shrugged his shoulders and pulled his lucky coin from his pocket. He knew it would get a lot of use during the remainder of his trip to find Spock. Without ceremony, he tossed the coin up in the air, and was not surprised when it was heads once again. With a shake of his head, he pulled open the door on the right hand side.

“You sure about that?” the other door asked.

“As sure as I am of anything on this godforsaken planet.”

With that, Jim took two or so steps through the doorway before the ground gave out beneath his feet. He felt himself falling down a dark hole.

“Oh this is going to hurt,” Jim told the darkness.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to notices the strangeness of the hole. For one thing, he wasn’t falling nearly as fast as he should be and for another, branches kept reaching out to him, as though they were trying to stabilize his fall. They almost felt like…hands.

“Oh come on!”

“Come where?” the hands asked.

Jim rolled his eyes. Only Jareth would create a hole full of hands that maneuvered themselves into various face shapes. In Jim’s mind, the entire planet was one never-ending freak show, and he had every intention of leaving it long before his allotted thirteen hours.

“Come on now, we don’t have all day,” the hands continued.

“I doubt that,” Jim grumbled.

“Up or down?”

“I’ve been up. So, I guess, down.”

“He chose _down_?”

Jim felt the hands lower him further into the hole, and while he wanted to question his decision based on the hands question, it was a little late for second guesses. He felt the hands release him into another hole.

“Umpf.” Jim landed hard. “Ow.”

“The landing could have been much worse, Jim,” Jareth’s voice cooed from the darkness.

“Yeah,” Jim responded as he rolled onto his knees, “I’m sure of that.”

“You seem upset, Jim. Aren’t you enjoying my labyrinth?”

Jim snorted. Sure, earlier he’d wanted company, but not Jareth.

“Do you know where you are, Jim?”

“Your labyrinth? But, it’s just a guess.”

“You’re in my oubliette,” Jareth whispered from mere centimeters behind Jim.

Jim shuddered at his proximity. His heart began pounding an erratic beat in his chest. The combination of Jareth’s proximity and the knowledge that they were alone in a tiny room had him on the edge of complete panic. Unconsciously, Jim lifted his hand to the ear Jareth had bitten earlier and felt Jareth chuckle.

“You remembered,” Jareth breathed across Jim’s neck.

Jim sucked in a breath and gritted his teeth. He focused his thoughts on how much he would enjoy obliterating the planet. Anything was safer than the feeling of Jareth’s warm body pressed up tight against him. His clothing left little to Jim’s imagination, and his hardness pressed into Jim’s lower back.

“You surprise me, Jim,” Jareth continued, his lips almost touching Jim’s sensitive neck.

“Really?” Jim squeaked.

“You should not have been able to make it this far. You should have given up long before this point.” Jareth emphasized the last word with a subtle shift of his hips.

“Uh, I’m not good with giving up,” Jim managed, his head floating somewhere next to his body.

Jareth chuckled softly. “No, you’re certainly not.”

“This your new plan, Jareth?” Jim whispered. Mentally, he scolded himself. There was no need to whisper, but he couldn’t help himself. It just seemed _inappropriate_ to use a normal tone of voice.

“You have an uncanny ability to make…creative changes to my plans,” Jareth replied. He enjoyed the feel of the solid body beneath him. He inhaled the scent of the human and felt it fill his lungs. “Uncanny.”

“You know, keeping me down here for the rest of my thirteen hours – it’s cheating,” Jim observed mildly. He was determined to maintain his composure. While he wasn’t strictly a girl orientated guy, he was not really attracted to Jareth, their intimate position aside. If his body was having any sort of – reaction – (which it wasn’t) it was due to their closeness, not out of any sort of attraction.

“Ah, cheating is such a harsh word, Jim,” Jareth replied. He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on the skin right below Jim’s ear.

Jim swallowed the moan that threatened to bubble from his lips. The goblin was so warm and the room so small it was hard to think. The only other person Jim had ever encountered who was as warm as Jareth was Spock. Maybe that was a better explanation for his weak defense. If Spock were trapped in this oubliette with him, Jim would insist they move closer together. In fact, he needed to get out of here and get to his First Officer. That was the only way he’d ever know for certain that Spock’s skin was as warm as Jareth’s; it was logical.

“I’m going to beat your labyrinth,” Jim told the Goblin King. “I am going to find Spock, and then I’m going to destroy your planet.”

“Jim,” Jareth scolded, mildly, “you say the sweetest things.”

Clearly, Jareth was content to simply smother Jim. While small spaces were not a problem for the Captain, he needed to find a way out of the tiny box. He felt Jareth wiggle his hips, in an attempt to increase the friction, and felt an idea form in his mind. Jim forced his entire body to relax until the only thing keeping him from falling boneless to the ground was Jareth’s surprisingly strong grip around his chest.

“What game are we playing now, Jim?” Jareth asked.

Jim knew it wouldn’t be a simple task, but he could outwit the Goblin King. He had played enough games of chess to know how to make the other player move wherever you needed them to move. This would be no different.

“It’s hardly a game, Jareth. Games involve two people. You make all of the moves in the labyrinth.”

“Oh, I see why he – ” Jareth caught himself. He smiled. The human was right. Of course the whole labyrinth was his game, but the human did not understand how much he had upset the general running of his game. James T. Kirk never acted as predicted. Jareth considered himself an expert in chaos. If Vulcans were known for their logical thinking, Goblins were known for their creative and _illogical_ thinking. It appeared that Jim defied both ways of thinking. He was a true enigma.

“You’ve proven your point, Jim,” Jareth conceded.

Jim breathed a sigh of relief when he felt Jareth dematerialize. While it wasn’t exactly the move he’d anticipated, the end result was the same. He heard shuffling in the distance and felt his spine stiffen.

“Who’s there?” Jim asked.

  


 

 **Part 5**

“Me.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Oh great, it’s Hoggle the Steadfast Coward.”

“Not pleased to see me, then.”

“See? I can’t see anything in here.”

“Course not. It’s pitch black.”

Jim rolled his eyes, and then realized the creature wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. He heard Hoggle moving around the room, and was amazed at how much more spacious it seemed without Jareth’s presence. As the room filled with soft light from a candle, Jim found himself blinking back the tears brought on by the sensory overload.

“Knew you’d be getting yourself into trouble. Then you go and upset _him_ …I knew I’d have to come and help you.”

Ignoring Hoggle for the moment, Jim stood as much as he could in the low-ceilinged chamber and looked around. The candlelight caught the shimmery bits of stone embedded in the cavern walls. It almost looked as though someone had been spinning around with an open bottle of glitter. He tilted his head to the side, an action reminiscent of Spock, and slowly turned to face Hoggle.

“ _I_ upset _him_?” Jim shook his head as Hoggle’s words penetrated his brain. “Of all the – he steals _my_ First Officer off of _my_ ship then teleports _me_ to his little planet of horrors and _he_ is upset by _me_?”

“Shows what you know,” Hoggle sneered. “Don’t you get it? Jareth’s not going to let you win. Even if you do make it to his castle. He’s going to turn the Vulcan into a goblin no matter what you do.”

“I’ve heard enough out of you, Mister Positivity. You’re making Bones sound like an optimist,” Jim growled back.

“Someone is sensitive,” Hoggle shot back.

“I’m not sensitive! I’m tired and I miss my ship.”

“Not going to find your ship in here,” Hoggle pointed out.

Jim glared at the diminutive creature.

“This is an oubliette. As you can see,” Hoggle continued, ignoring the human’s glare, “there are no doors. No way in, no way out.”

“Then how’d you get in here?”

“Don’t sound so smart. You probably don’t even know what an oubliette is.”

Jim snorted. The last time he’d heard a tone like that, Uhura had been telling him he was a dumb hick who only had sex with farm animals. He wasn’t sure that Jareth counted as a farm animal, and it wasn’t really sex, but he vowed to never mention the incident to her. Ever.

“Do you?” Jim asked, a sneer in his voice.

“Course I do. It’s a place they put people – to forget about them.”

Again, Jim gave a derisive snort. He doubted Jareth had put him in the oubliette to forget about him. In fact, he had probably left Jim down here so that he could find him at will. The thought gave the Captain pause; maybe Jareth wasn’t interested in Spock at all. While it was a completely egocentric idea, it could be that Jareth wanted _him_ and had merely abducted Spock as a means to an end. While not a better scenario, it at least gave Jim some new options. The rules of the game had just changed.

“What about people they don’t want to forget about? What about people who are put into the oubliette by mistake?”

“Put in the oubliette by mistake?”

Jim nodded.

“Jareth doesn’t do anything by mistake,” Hoggle informed Jim.

“Oh, I know.”

Confused by the strange gleam in the human’s eye, Hoggle shook his head. The things he did just to be left alone.

“Don’t suppose you know a secret way out of here?” Jim asked, conversationally.

“And if I was to know one?”

Jim smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do you, Hoggle?”

“Course I do. I know a short cut out that will lead out of the whole labyrinth.”

Jim hung his head. Jareth definitely did nothing by mistake.

“Back to the beginning? No, Hoggle. I meant a way out of this oubliette.” Tired, of being bent over, Jim moved to sit on one of the rocks. “I’m not giving up now. No, not now.”

“It only gets worse from here,” Hoggle said.

Jim looked up at the creature. “I hardly expected it to get better.”

“Least you’re learning.”

“Are you going to show me a way out of the oubliette?” Jim asked tiredly.

“Why would I be doing that when Jareth wants you here?”

“You managed to find a way into this “no way in,  no way out” oubliette…eventually you’ll want to get out again. I’ll just wait and follow you.”

Hoggle opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it. Damn Jareth for not mentioning clever humans.

“If you show me how to leave this place you’ll be rid of me sooner,” Jim offered.

“Well,” Hoggle said with a grin, “Why didn’t you say so in the first place.”

Jim shook his head. He knew it would be useless to point out the number of times he had asked for the way out of the oubliette. Instead, he watched Hoggle move aound the chamber, closely examining the walls. Jim allowed himself a smile as Hoggle lifted up a large piece of wood which looked remarkably like a door. As he predicted, once Hoggle had the piece of wood in place, it opened as though the door had been there all along.

"Oh," Hoggle grumbled as pots, pans, brooms and other miscellaneous items came tumbling out of the closet.

"Broom closet?" Jim asked, amused.

Hoggle turned and faced Jim, scowl etched on his face. "Well, we can't be right all the time, now can we."

With a determined nod of his head, Hoggle turned back to the door and opened it from the right instead of the left.

The pressure Jim hadn't realized he'd had weighing on his chest dissapated at his first glimpse of the exit. Something about being trapped in a small hole with no means of escape and the threath of Jareth popping in for a quick grope made Jim more uncomfortable than he cared to admit. He followed Hoggle out of the oubliette and into a narrow, stone-lined passage. The corridor made him feel as though they were traveling through long-forgotten mines.

"Go back."

Jim's head snapped toward the ominous, theatrical-sounding voice. Sure enough one of the pillars had a face carved out of it. At present, the face was looking at Jim expectantly.

"Well?" the stone face asked.

"Well what?" Jim snapped.

"Aren't you even going to fake a reaction?"

"No."

"Oh please," the voice begged, sounding a bit pathetic. "It's been so long since we've had any visitors."

Head tilted to the side, Jim considered the face before him. The longer he spent in the labyrinh, the more the labyrinth made sense. He interpreted this development as a warning to leave as expediently as possible.

"How would you like me to react?"

"Really?" the face asked, clearly amazed the human was going to humor him.

Jim nodded.

"Most folks scream a bit before running off," the face informed him.

"I'll do both if you'll tell me the way to the castle."

If it was possoble for a face carved from stone to frown, Jim would swear that's exactly what it did.

"Don't know the way to the castle. I ain't never seen it."

Jim laughed; it made sense that a stone pillar had never been outside these caves.

"I can tell you this," the face offered, "The closer you are, the more people will be telling you ain't."

Again, the explanation made sense. Jim thought even Spock would find the thing’s logic sound.

"Want to give this part another chance?" Jim asked, smiling.

The face grinned before becoming imposing and stoic once more. "Go back...leave now before it's too late...you're going the wrong way..."

With a reckless grinn, Jim dashed off, hoping Hoggle was able to keep up with him. Each time the voices became less threatening, he changed his course until they were loud again. Every so often, Jim offered a masculine holler of fake fright. By the time he found his way out of the cave, he was winded from the exertion and his voice was hoarse from overuse.  
 

*          *          *

  
“I must admit,” Jareth began before fully materializing in the throne room, “I’ve never met anyone as unique as Jim.”

Spock stood to face the Goblin King, hands clenched tightly behind his back (the only outward side of his inner emotion). No amount of meditation would alleviate the dark emotions building within him. Not since his unfortunate, but upon reflection, necessary, altercation with Jim on the bridge of the _Enterprise_ had he felt such insatiable rage. While he accepted his attraction, and subsequent possessiveness of his Captain, he found his frustration mounted due to his inability to prevent Jareth’s continued advances. Based upon the data Spock had accumulated, he remained confident his Captain did not return the Goblin King’s affections; however, until he could discuss the matter with him personally, Spock felt any further speculation on his part would be useless.

“You’re quiet when you’re sullen,” Jareth pouted. He enjoyed knowing he’d succeeded in unnerving the Vulcan.

“I was unaware you required a response. Your statement appeared rhetorical. Since you appear to desire validation, I will truthfully inform you that I find no logical fault with your assessment.”

“I imagine,” Jareth continued as if Spock hadn’t spoken, “Jim plays a rigorous game of chess. Something about his eyes.”

“While I have yet to discover the logic behind the Captain’s strategies, I find him to be a highly satisfactory opponent.”

“Your words do an injustice to your feelings for our dear Jim, Spock. Such drab language should be saved for discussing one’s enemies, don’t you think?”

“You speak too intimately about the Captain for your acquaintance with him. You fail to offer him the respect due his position as Captain of the _USS Enterprise_.”

“Oh Spock,” Jareth said patronizingly, “I believe my interlude with Jim in the oubliette has thrust our _acquaintance_ to a first-name basis.”

At Spock’s silence, Jareth’s grin grew. Unable to resist taunting him further, Jareth moved closer to where Spock was standing, forcing the Vulcan to look at him.

“In your professional opinion, knowing the Captain as well as you do, how do you think he’s enjoying my labyrinth?” Jareth asked. “And, Spock, this question is not rhetorical.”

Spock met the Goblin King’s gaze and forced his mind to produce an answer, a difficult task, as it seemed as though every cell in his brain was singularly focused on dismembering the creature before him. He repressed the almost overwhelming urge, knowing that while it would be emotionally satisfying, the end result would still leave Jim lost in the labyrinth. Moreover, even if Spock were able to find Jim, they would be stranded on this logic-defying planet and separated, perhaps indefinitely, from their crew.

“Based upon my knowledge of the Captain,” Spock began, carefully, “I believe he will decipher your labyrinth with little difficulty. The Captain is extremely astute for a human. In fact, your continued interference will simply motivate him to solve your labyrinth with an upmost level of efficiency.”

“Decipher my labyrinth with little difficulty?” Jareth asked, eyes flashing dangerously.

Spock merely raised an eyebrow.

“Oh Spock,” Jareth said with a shake of his head. “Perhaps your Captain will find my next interference more worthy of his time. Maybe he’ll _rise_ to the challenge?”

The gleam in Jareth’s eyes made Spock rethink his answer. Of course, he knew it would be inadvisable to provoke the Goblin King; however, such powers of restraint appeared to have abandoned the Vulcan. His failure to control himself may have endangered his Captain. Such an action was inexcusable.

“The Captain will continue to perform in a manner befitting a Starfleet officer.”

Jareth laughed as he dematerialized.

Spock felt his whispered, “What a pity,” like a slap to the face.  
 

*          *          *

  
Out of the caves and into a…tunnel. Jim felt his shoulders slump. Of course, it made sense, since he had made no upward progress during his run, but still, a little help would be nice.

“We needs a ladder,” Hoggle announced, coming to a halt next to Jim.

He looked down at the creature. He _knew_ they needed a ladder…and a map. Once again, the tunnel went in a straight line as far as he could see. Relying once again on his lucky coin, Jim tossed it up in the air. Before he could catch it safely in his hand, it fell to the ground and skittered off to the left. Jim dashed off after his coin instinctively. When he caught up with it, the coin was resting against a foot belonging to a shabby-looking creature.

“Always happy to encounter generous souls,” the creature spoke as it picked up the coin.

Jim peered at it closely. Something about the situation felt wrong to him. He felt _warm_. He looked back the way he’d come and didn’t see Hoggle.

“Jareth, pretending to be a beggar on the planet you rule is tacky, don’t you think?” Jim asked, arms crossed against his chest.

“Come now, Jim, don’t be coy,” Jareth chastised, a smile on his face. “Now, I’ve just been having the most enlightening little chat with your Vulcan.”

At the mention of his First Officer, Jim leaned closer to Jareth, eager for any news of his friend. He’d decided to find some sort of device to attach them to each other so that in the future they would never be able to be teleported separately; from now on, if Spock was kidnapped, so was Jim. He wasn’t sure how he’d convince the Vulcan to agree to this, but he was the Captain, he’d find a way.

“Apparently, my little labyrinth isn’t enough of a challenge for your…intellect,” Jareth informed him. Jareth stood from the squat stool, his beggars garb replaced with his usual attire.

“Spock told you that?” Jim asked, surprise coloring his voice. “My Spock? About this high?” Jim held his arm out to show Spock’s approximate height. “Blue Starfleet uniform. That Spock?”

“He seems to think you’ll solve my labyrinth with ‘little difficulty’.”

“Huh,” Jim said, hand holding his chin, as if he were deep in thought. “Are you sure you beamed the right Vulcan to your planet? I know Spock. He’d never say something like that. It’s far more likely he’d say something about my rash choices, or remind me that relying on chance to make a choice is a display of faulty logic. You beamed the wrong Vulcan.”

Jareth chuckled. Perhaps the Vulcan was right about Jim. It appeared the human was designed to react differently than anticipated. The cocksure attitude Jim displayed made Jareth regret releasing him from the oubliette as quickly as he had. His fingers tingled to caress him, his mouth watered to taste the saltiness of his skin on his lips again, to hear him moan in barely contained desire. More than anything, he wanted to watch the defiant glint in Jim’s eyes melt into an expression of unbridled desire.

“Regardless,” Jareth said, finally pulling himself from his fantasies. “I would hate to have you think I doubt your fortitude. I want you to fully understand how much faith I have in your skills, Jim.”

Head tilted to the side, Jim watched as the clock rematerialized next to Jareth. With a growing sense of trepidation, which was validated rather quickly, he watched Jareth move the hands on the clock forward four hours. Jim felt his stomach sink to his feet. He refused to allow Jareth the satisfaction of knowing exactly how much his new deadline terrified him.

“You flatter me, Jareth,” Jim told him. He plastered his best, “I just hacked the system” smile on his face; the one that always made Uhura give him a disgusted, but amused glare.

“There is another way out of this, Jim,” Jareth told Jim. While he admired the boy’s composure, he wanted Jim to fail…he needed Jim to fail. Only through failure would the human realize exactly how much he needed the Goblin King.

“I’m not turning back, Jareth.”

“Oh Jim,” Jareth sighed. He moved Jim into the wall, hands planted on either side of his face, boxing him in. Overwhelmed by his scent, Jareth pressed his lips to Jim’s. He savored the texture of his mouth as he traced the human’s pouty lower lip with his tongue. When he felt Jim respond to the kiss by applying pressure of his own, Jareth couldn’t repress his moan. Jareth, King of the Goblins, went weak-kneed when Jim pulled his lower lip into his own mouth.

He was so lost in the sensation, it was a brutal, cruel shock to feel Jim’s teeth bite hard into the lip he’d seconds earlier caressed with his tongue. Shocked by the action, Jareth snapped his head back, blood on his lip, and stared intently at Jim’s smirking face.

“A gentleman would’ve asked first.”

 **Part 6**

The room shifted in and out of focus as Spock shook with uncontrollable rage, the edges of his vision blurring into a shapeless red hue. Gone was the stoic control prized by all Vulcans. It had been replaced by an all-consuming fire that threatened to destroy him. He’d experienced so many intense emotions simultaneously that his mind was having no small degree of difficulty assimilating all of them. At first, he’d simply felt the rage, quickly followed by extreme helplessness. Then, almost on top of the previous emotions, he’d felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest, the deep ache as uncomfortable as it was unfamiliar, the sight of Jim _returning_ the Goblin King’s kiss nearly too much for the Vulcan to handle. Upon seeing Jim’s ultimate plan unfold, Spock felt a brief respite from the hostile emotions. For a heartbeat, he felt such an infusion of pride and joy that his darker emotions abated momentarily. His respite was brief. Once he saw the look on Jareth’s face, his reaction to Jim’s actions, he felt a bone-chilling fear. Fear for his dear, reckless friend.

“Jim,” Spock breathed before crumpling to the ground.  
 

*          *          *

  
Jareth pulled a blood-smeared finger away from his lip with a chuckle.

“Jim,” Jareth began, voice low, dangerous, “Beware. I have been generous. I can be cruel.”

Knowing it was reckless, but beyond the point of any sort of rationality, Jim snorted. “Generous? Kidnapping my First Officer, forcing me through your labyrinth to bring him back to the _Enterprise_ …these are your ‘generous’ actions?”

Jareth considered Jim silently. He moved closer to him and ran the back of his hand down Jim’s cheek, savoring the feel of his skin.

“You don’t know,” Jareth whispered, “how much I have done for you, Jim. I reordered the universe for you. Yes, Jim. I have been most generous.”

Jim opened his mouth to protest, but stopped. He believed Jareth; at least he believed Jareth believed what he was saying.

“I never asked you to do that,” Jim reminded him gently.

A bitter laugh escaped Jareth’s mouth. He pressed his lips, still streaked with his blood, to Jim’s, forcing him to taste the coppery flavor of Jareth’s blood. Jareth used his mouth to punish Jim for rejecting his generosity, for desiring someone else, for being so irresistibly _human_. He thrust his tongue into Jim’s mouth, refusing to allow him a chance to adjust to the new assault to his senses. It pleased him to know Jim could feel him growing between them, and ground his need into Jim, forcing Jim to acknowledge how much the Goblin King desired him.

With a growl, Jareth pulled away from Jim, pleased to see the man’s dilated pupils. He spun Jim around, forcing him against the wall. Jareth kicked Jim’s legs apart and pressed himself firmly into his body, rubbing his need into Jim’s perfect ass. Jareth ran his hands up Jim’s sides before trapping his arms above his head. Jareth leaned his head next to Jim’s ear.

“You will grow to appreciate just how generous I’ve been to you, Jim. I can give you anything you want. I will give you the deepest desires of your heart. I have heard the thoughts you harbor, the secrets you won’t reveal to anyone…I can grant you those things you want most.”

Jareth sucked hard on Jim’s neck, marking him. “And in return, you will love me.”

Jim hissed when Jareth bruised his skin. He felt his tenuous hold on his control slipping. While he still wasn’t attracted to the Goblin King, his warm body was pressed up against him, all of his bits aligning with Jim in just the right ways. He fought the urge to press back into Jareth’s crotch, knowing it was simply his body’s reaction to an increase of adrenaline and – and – other scientific things Spock would be able to describe. Focusing his thoughts on Spock allowed Jim to regain more control of himself. He began to think with his brain and not…other parts of his anatomy that were begging for some attention. Although, Jim realized, a smile lighting his face, he may be able to accomplish both.

If Jareth noticed the sudden complacency in Jim’s body, he disregarded it. Jim gave into his body’s demands and pressed his ass back against the Goblin King’s generous hardness, taking momentary pleasure in the relief sweeping through his highly aroused body.

“Let me see you,” Jim asked, softly.

Jareth smiled against Jim’s neck. He knew he’d be able to convince Jim to be his. With a lazy smile on his lips, Jareth released Jim’s arms and allowed him to turn and face him. Slowly, Jareth swept his hot gaze up the Captain, eyes lingering on his obvious arousal tenting his pants before moving to his eyes. Jareth noted the deep blue shade of his soul-capturing eyes and smiled even wider at the knowledge that he’d managed to change the normally defiant glare to one of undisguised pleasure. When he felt Jim reach out and touch him, Jareth moaned. It was a simple touch, but it blazed a trail as Jim continued to trace his arms, to his shoulders, down his chest until Jim’s hands finally settled on the Goblin King’s hips.

“Jim,” Jareth breathed like a supplication before fusing their lips together once more.

Jim allowed the kiss to progress naturally. Idly, he rubbed small circles on Jareth’s hip with his thumbs. When he felt Jareth relax, Jim moved his hands further down the Goblin King’s muscled hips. Clearly encouraged by Jim’s exploring fingers, Jareth began to grind his erection against Jim’s. Unable to keep silent, Jim moaned into the kiss, ashamed to be feeling genuine pleasure from Jareth’s kiss. He returned his hands to Jareth’s hips and moved them around with purpose. Jim smiled when he finally felt it. He moved his mouth away from Jareth, but before the King of the Goblins could more than whimper at the loss, he began to shower his neck with open-mouthed kisses. When Jareth’s head fell back, Jim used his distraction to spin their positions; Jareth growling at Jim’s sudden movement. Jim bit down on Jareth’s neck as he pressed him into the wall, pleased when Jareth quit struggling.

“I knew you’d succumb to me, Jim,” Jareth breathed into his ear.

“Did you?” Jim panted.

“You were destined to be by my side, forever.”

“Destiny?” Jim repeated, pulling away slightly.

“Always.”

“Hm,” Jim mused, moving his hand to where Jareth could see it, his lucky coin between his first and ring fingers. “Heads, you’re wrong and I finish solving your labyrinth, get Spock and go back to my ship. Tails you’re right and I stay with you forever.”

Jareth licked his lips. He would allow Jim to make this move. After their encounter in the oubliette, he had decided to move with Jim’s erratic plays…after all, he was still King of the planet. The reality in this place was his to command.

When Jareth didn’t move to stop him, Jim accepted this as his acquiescence. Before Jareth could rethink his decision, Jim took a small step back and tossed the coin in the air.

Once the coin landed, Jim held his hand over it, bracing himself for the result.

“It’s only forever, Jim. Not long at all,” Jareth whispered.

Jim met his gaze and held it for a moment before removing his hand. He looked down at the coin.

“Your move, Jareth,” Jim said, voice soft.

“Run, Jim,” Jareth told Jim, “This is the end of my generosity.”

“Oh no, the cleaners!” Hoggle’s panicked voice came from behind Jim.

Jim spun to face the voice, and then quickly spun back – Jareth was gone.

“The what?” Jim asked.

“You’ve really done it this time,” Hoggle grumbled.

“Done what?” Jim asked, disoriented from the sudden lack of stimulus.

“RUN!”

Jim took off after Hoggle. He turned back and saw a giant, multi-headed drill chasing them down the tunnel. They ran until the tunnel dead-ended at a chained, locked gate. Jim looked around for something to pry the bars with, but found nothing. A short distance before the gate was a large stone slab that had been used to cover up a hole.

“Here,” Jim yelled, moving to push against the piece of stone. He felt it give a little, and pushed against it with all of his strength, the sound of the cleaner careening down the tunnel reminding him that death would be the result should he fail to move the stone slab.

“Ohhhhh,” Hoggle cried, fearing the cleaner would kill them both.

At the last moment, the stone slab gave way and they both tumbled to the ground.

“Umpf,” Jim groaned, pleased to be alive, but tired of falling.

“Ah, this is what we need,” Hoggle announced, “A ladder. Follow me.”

Jim looked around the room. His only other option was to go back into the tunnel. “Like I have a better choice.”

Silently, Jim followed Hoggle up the ladder. When the small creature pushed open a lid and sunlight streamed down, Jim could have wept with joy. He crawled out of the vase after Hoggle and found himself in a courtyard. There were hedges all around in the expected labyrinthine pattern. Odd statues dotted the area around a giant sundial.

“From here, you’re on your own,” Hoggle told Jim.

“On my own? You’ve been no help to me at all,” Jim pointed out.

“I’m getting as far away from you as possible.”

“Away from me? What’d I do?”

“ _Everything_. Jareth sending the cleaner, making me disappear then reappear just in time…no, staying far away from you, that’s for sure.”

“Jareth brought you back to the tunnel for a reason, Hoggle.”

“No matter,” Hoggle waved his hand dismissively, “Leaving you here. Find your own way through the labyrinth.”

“The good kind of coward,” Jim muttered.

“You would be too, if you knew what’s good for you,” Hoggle sputtered. “Jareth scares me. Ain’t no shame there.”

“Go on then,” Jim told him. “I’ll deal with Jareth on my own.”  
 

*          *          *

  
Spock recovered from his brief period of unconsciousness swiftly, the overflow of emotions requiring an outlet. After a brief assessment of his current health, he determined his brief blackout was due to his body’s inability to cope with the deluge of emotion not normally acknowledged by Vulcans. As his surroundings came into focus once more, Spock feared his emotions would overcome him again as he heard Jim’s breathy “let me see you” from the screen in the throne room. Once again, Spock felt the flood of emotions as he watched the scene between his Captain and the Goblin King unfold. Spock held his breath as he watched the coin spin through the air. He had, on numerous occasions, witnessed his Captain use such methods to decide something, but he disliked it especially now when so much was dependent upon the probability of the coin landing heads-up.

“Run, Jim,” Spock heard Jareth tell his Captain, “This is the end of my generosity.”

“Enjoying my labyrinth now, Spock?” Jareth asked as he materialized in the room.

Spock whirled to face the Goblin King. “The Captain has, as I informed you, beaten your latest attempt to seduce him.”

“You saw him, heard him panting for me, Spock. Even you can see his resolve is wavering,” Jareth taunted.

In a flash of speed, Spock moved across the room and grasped Jareth by the neck before throwing him into a nearby wall. Jareth hit the wall hard, but was on his feet quickly.

“You’re taking advantage of my hospitality, Spock,” Jareth told him, dangerously.

With a sweep of his hand, Jareth backhanded Spock across the room.

“Jim will be mine.”

Surprised by the Goblin King’s strength, it took Spock a moment to recover from the blow. When he’d once again gained his feet, Jareth was standing in front of him. Knowing they were more closely matched in terms of strength then he’d first believed, Spock circled Jareth slowly as he devised a course of action better aligned with his opponent’s strength. He thought briefly about how Jim would approach such an opponent. While he and Jim had never sparred together, he had on occasion observed Jim work through various hand-to-hand combat exercises. As with most of Jim’s choices, there appeared to be no logic to his movements, but even so, he maintained a high level of success.

“Should I tell you how he tastes?” Jareth asked, an evil glint in his eye.

Knowing the Goblin King was using his speech to elicit an emotional response, Spock blocked his statements. In any case, the questions were unnecessary, as Jareth was already aware of Spock’s answers.

“How his body responds before his mind registers the arousal caused by my lips on his, my hands on his body?” Jareth continued.

Unable to prohibit the motion, Spock attacked the Goblin King again, launching them both to the ground. He latched his hands around Jareth’s neck and squeezed. For the second time in an inexcusably short period of time, Spock’s emotions overtook his higher cognitive processes and the room moved in and out of focus. He found himself enjoying the feel of Jareth struggling for breath beneath his hands.

In a split second, Spock found his hands empty. Jareth stood above him, a dark look on his face. Before Spock could move to engage Jareth once more, he found himself held immobile by an invisible force.

“Tsk, tsk. I must remind Jim to teach his crew better manners.”

Jareth snapped his fingers and a line of goblins walked into the throne room carrying large diameter metal chains. Under the observant eye of their liege, the goblins quickly secured the chains around Spock to ensure he remained immobile and to ensure he was no longer a threat to their ruler. Spock felt himself lifted from the ground by the chains secured to his wrists. The goblins continued to hoist him up until his toes grazed the ground only if he stretched. A metal collar was attached to his neck with a chain securing it to the wall behind him. Now, if he were to struggle with the chains restraining his arms, he would choke himself.

Thoroughly restrained, Spock growled loudly.

 **Part 7**

Jim shook his head as he watched Hoggle walk away, always the good coward. Alone once again, Jim found himself missing his crew yet again. In many ways, the crew of the _Enterprise_ was more than just his subordinates – at least in Jim’s mind, they were family. He smiled fondly as he recalled Sulu’s triumphant look when the Goblin King had appeared on the screen. Even in light of the serious situation, Sulu had managed to cast a smug look at Chekov…who had finally believed in the truth of the fairytale. His crew had suburb decorum in the face of adversity. If they appeared blasé about such occurrences to outsiders, it was simply due to the frequency of strange and dangerous encounters experienced by the _Enterprise._

Bones and Uhura were perhaps the least impressed by the adventures experienced on board his ship. Secretly, Jim believed Uhura maintained her professional aloofness simply to keep him in line; he honestly believed she enjoyed the excitement as much as the other members of the crew. Bones, well, Bones would complain if Jim managed to make it an entire Standard month without contracting some sort of unknown illness simply because it would deny him the privilege of using a hypo on Jim. Although, their last away mission had stretched what little patience Bones had a bit too far. The whole thing had begun as a simple diplomatic mission to ensure a planet would join the Federation before other, less friendly empires could befriend them. He recalled the post-mission sickbay conversation with a sense of fondness:

 _“He thought WHAT?” Bones roared, a semi-conscious Jim on one of the sickbay beds._

 _“The Captain was unaware the Supreme Chancellor’s daughter was betrothed to the High Captain of the planet’s primary military force,” Spock explained, his matter-of-fact tone sure to grate on Bones’ nerves._

 _“Oh, sure. Not just a farmer’s daughter. Not for James Tiberius Kirk. Supreme Chancellor’s daughter or celibacy,” Bones grumbled._

 _“I doubt the Captain resorts to such extremes of abstinence entirely voluntarily, Doctor. He appears to experience a higher level of sexual tension than that felt by most humans. Therefore, to maintain proper supervision of his ship, he of course, must see to his needs on a more frequent basis. However, as Captain of the ship, it is prudent for him to avoid a sexual relationship with a member of the crew. The obvious course of action, then, is for him to seek sexual release during away missions. His actions, while morally ambiguous, are logically sound.”_

 _“Yeah, Bones,” Jim agreed from his place on the bed. His voice was weak, and hoarse, but highly enthusiastic. “She was so amazingly_ green _. Beautiful and green.”_

 _“Damn it, Jim. You’re the Captain of a ship. You can’t simply go around having gratuitous sex just because the other person happens to be green.”_

 _“I agree with the Doctor’s assessment, Captain,” Spock told Jim._

 _Only because Jim had begun to notice the nuances in Spock’s various tones and mannerisms in the months following the Nerada incident did he notice more than a trace of disapproval in his First Officer’s voice. He wanted to point out that he was in a great deal of pain from the pounding the beautiful green woman’s betrothed had administered to him, but doubted he’d get much sympathy from either man._

 _“We should, knowing the Captain’s pattern and preferences as we do,” Spock addressed McCoy, “anticipate such actions and devise contingency strategies to alleviate some of his sexual tension before allowing him to disembark for away missions, thus preventing such occurrences from happening in the future.”_

 _“I’m right here, you know,” Jim grumbled._

 _“I am aware of your continued presence in sickbay, Captain. Doctor McCoy has not yet cleared you for duty.”_

 _Bones snorted. “What exactly are you suggesting?”_

 _“There are several acceptable solutions, but I must gather more data before a suitable course of action can be taken, Doctor. Many variables remain to be examined. A rash decision could exacerbate the situation.”_

 _“Are you implying that you’re going to find someone on this ship to pimp out just so Jim can be sexually relieved?” Bones asked._

 _“It would be infinitely preferable to have such matters handled discreetly onboard the ship, instead of off where the variables are more difficult to anticipate,” Spock reasoned._

 _“We have a limited number of green-skinned crew members, Spock. Not all of them are women…how do you propose to convince those that are to help you in your little scheme?”_

 _“I do not believe the Captain’s sexual preference is quite as static as you are implying. I believe he could find the necessary relief from a male partner,” Spock informed the Doctor._

 _“A male partner? Are you crazy?”_

 _“I assure you, Doctor, my mental health is quite satisfactory.”_

After that part of the conversation, Jim had succumbed to unconsciousness. At the time, he’d given their discussion little thought. The shaky relationship between the two had begun to deteriorate after that point, but Jim had assumed it was simply a phase. Now, he wondered if Spock had revealed his finalized plan to Bones; if Bones disapproved of the plan, it would explain his increased hostility toward the Vulcan. Although, Jim couldn’t think of a member of the crew who would be involved in the – solution – that would cause Bones’ severe negative reaction.

Unless – no. Jim wouldn’t allow himself to entertain such an absurd, but oddly pleasant thought. He needed to get to Spock. They had a lot to discuss. The longer he allowed himself to think about Spock, the more he felt the absence of his First Officer. It was like a white-hot pain in his chest. For the first time, Jim acknowledged how much he’d grown to depend upon Spock, how much his feelings of respect and admiration had evolved into something warmer, something closer to affection. Jim needed to have Spock back by his side.

“Where he belongs,” Jim whispered aloud.

Jim pulled the communicator from his back pocket.

“The desire of my heart,” Jim told the device in his hands.

He continued to stare at the communicator, silently considering it. There was a chance it would only show Jim what Jareth wanted him to see, but there was a chance it would show Jim the true desire of his heart. Even if it was only a chance, it was enough for him. He blinked as he realized how much he was hoping Spock would be on the other end of the communicator.

“Only one way to find out,” Jim told himself.

He held the device in his cupped hands, wondering how to make it work.

He shook it slightly – nothing.

He tapped what appeared to be the “face” of the device – nothing.

He moved his fingers around the smooth surface, hoping to find a depression or crease or something to act as a switch or button – nothing.

“Damn it! I want to see Spock!”

When the object began to vibrate in his hands, Jim held his breath, anticipation skittering up his spine. He waited impatiently for the communicator to finish whatever it was doing. The seconds ticked by like years.

Finally, a real-time holograph was projected from the surface of the communicator.

“SPOCK!”

Horrified, Jim gripped the object so tightly his knuckles turned white. Spock, the desire of his heart, was restrained – suspended – in the air. His always immaculately-groomed First Officer’s hair was an unruly mess and his skin was an unnatural yellow color.

“I do enjoy seeing you like this, Spock.”

Struck mute by the shock of the scene before him, Jim simply watched as Jareth prowled closer to Spock. The evil glint in his eye made Jim fear for his First Officer. Also, knowing Jareth had overpowered the Vulcan caused Jim a genuine sense of fear; not many creatures were able to beat Spock.

“I think I would enjoy Jim displayed like this for me,” Jareth continued. “He will take some time to grow accustomed to this place, to life here on my planet. I will enjoy the process.”

Jim was too distracted by Spock – growling? – to take offence at Jareth’s words.

“I think gold suits Jim better. Wouldn’t you agree? I think so. And, as my consort, he wouldn’t be forced into such a humiliating pose…well, perhaps, but he’d have to earn it,” Jareth chuckled darkly.

Jim shuddered.

“No, instead I’ll spread him out on a burgundy divan with gilded trim. Are you picturing this with me, Spock? It’s quite an image. Since he lacks your physical strength, the gold chains could be smaller, more delicate…yes. A collar around his neck, studded with – ” Jareth paused, considering, “Fire opals....hm, yes, to match his personality. All of that delicious energy restrained. The ankle and wrist cuffs would be bare…like the rest of him…all of his golden, salty skin exposed to me. Still enjoying this, Spock? The chains on his arms and legs would have some slack to allow for repositioning as our amorous activities progressed. He’d be laid out on his side, one knee bent, one of his arms thrown carelessly across the back of the divan, the glare in his eyes igniting the lust in my own. Oh yes, Spock, your Captain would resist. He would fight against it…against his desire, against mine.”

Mesmerized, Jim watched the free-flow of emotions that chased themselves across Spock’s face. While he’d become more accustomed to noticing the nuances Spock used to express any emotion he may be feeling, this raw exposure was completely new territory for him. He felt as though he was an interloper on one of Spock’s private moments, but his guilt was not powerful enough to force him to turn away.

“The heat of his glare would propel me across the room, until I stood above him. Even restrained, he would follow me with his eyes. Your Captain is good about that, Spock…he always watches his target, never loses sight of that which he desires – ”

“My Captain would _never_ desire one such as you,” Spock spat. “Your touch would be most unwelcome. Your persistent advances undoubtedly sicken my Captain continually.”

Eyes wide, Jim watched, helpless, as Jareth became a blur of movement in his speed to stand before Spock. Before he could do more than yell “SPOCK!”, Jareth had backhanded Spock. Jim felt the sickening slap of skin against skin as a physical blow to his own body. When Spock’s face returned to its forward position, green blood dripped from his split lip.

Unable to do more, Jim slid to the ground, cradling the communicator in his hands, silent tears staining his cheeks.

“Now,” Jareth resumed, wiping the back of his hand on his shirt, “It’s rude to interrupt; that was a warning. Once I’m the only thing your Captain can see, when the only thing he can feel is the heat of my body…only then will I reach out to gently caress his cheek. I do love the feel of his skin…spurred by the way his eyes would flutter shut, I would move to my knees by the divan to be better able to press my lips to his. I never was able to tell you how he tastes…an error I must correct. It really is indescribable, but for you, Spock, I will try. His kiss, so demanding, is like the moment a supernova begins…he forces your world to tilt and match his. Oh, how I would kiss him. At first, I would need to coerce him. He does play a good tease. No matter, I’m patient. The first brush of my lips would be at the corner of his mouth, barely a touch…simply a promise of more to come. My lips would blaze a trail down his neck, ever so softly. This gentle torture would continue until your Captain was overcome with desire and moved to touch me. Immediately, I would cease my ministrations, forcing him to whimper at the loss of contact.”

Jareth moaned. Jim couldn’t help but notice the Goblin King’s raging hard-on, but he seemed content to suffer the erection if it meant he could continue to torture Spock.

“’Very well’, I would tell him…he would reach out, tentatively at first, and explore my body. His fingers work magic, you know…they would find the sensitive place on my hips, just as he did earlier, and rub until I was nearly beside myself with the burn, the need for him to do more than simply tease my over-sensitive skin. A generous lover, Jim would comply. Arranging myself to give him better access, he would move his hands slowly up under my shirt, his fingers briefly grazing my nipples. He would move his hands back down, grasp the bottom of my shirt and work it slowly up and off, tossing it carelessly to the ground, the broad expanse of my skin capturing his complete attention. With uncanny accuracy, he would find my most sensitive places, and use his tongue to shamelessly exploit them. Caught up in his clever ministrations, I would moan as he moved his mouth to lave one of my nipples. He would keep me so distracted with his tongue, that I would hardly notice his deft, clever fingers undoing the clasp of my pants. With a hiss, I would pull back to reach down between our bodies. Maintaining eye-contact, forcing him to acknowledge it is me allowing him such sweet pleasure, I would take his swollen penis in my grip.”

When Jareth paused, Jim exhaled loudly.

“From here, Spock, I am simply imagining. While I know Jim is – well-endowed – from our previous liaisons, the specifics have yet to be revealed to me.”

The pained look on Spock’s face shattered Jim’s heart. The Vulcan continued to growl at the Goblin King, even though his eyes were slightly dilated.

“With his fully erect penis in my warm grip, I would sweep my thumb across the tip, basking in the panting moans coming from your Captain. Slowly, I would begin to move my hand up and down his shaft, pausing at the head to rub more of his pre-cum around…a promise of more to come. My slow, steady pace would slowly drive Jim to distraction; he would forget his place, beginning to thrust his hips into my hand. Delighting in his moan of pure frustration, I would remove my hand from his aching need. Of their own accord, his eyes would flicker down to my own erection. His pale pink tongue would peek out from between his adorable lips far enough to wet them. Knowing his desire, I would push my pants down enough for my hard cock to spring out and with a nod I would allow your Captain to take my cock into his hands. With sure strokes, he would work me from base to tip. As he continued his torturous rhythm, I would moan encouragingly. As he worked my penis in his hands, his eyes would remain riveted to it. Wanting, needing, to feel the heat of his mouth engulf me, I would move my body up his until my penis was aligned with his sinful mouth. Needing no further prompting - your Captain is ever so clever - he would slowly take me in his mouth. At the first swipe of his tongue against the tip of my cock, a hiss of pleasure would pass my lips. Encouraged, he would slowly swallow me down until the head of my penis was pressed against the back of his throat.”

Jim desperately wanted to close his eyes as Jareth moved his hands down to the obvious bulge in his pants and stroked himself through the material, but was unable to do more than follow the trail left by Jareth’s hand.

“Jim would swallow, squeezing my length in the warmth of his mouth, his action nearly making me come undone. I would grasp his face between my hands and begin to thrust into his willing, open mouth, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. Can you see it yet, Spock? Can you picture your Captain so lost in the throes of passion that he would allow me to do this?”

When Spock began to thrash against his restraints, Jim felt an all-consuming helplessness. Even if he did successfully complete the labyrinth and rescue Spock, the scars of this planet would remain with them forever.

“Wanting to be inside his beautiful ass when I come, I would allow my penis to slip from his mouth with a wet, sloppy sound. Careful not to mar his skin with the restraints - all good things in time - I would move Jim around on the divan until he was kneeling on the cushion, legs spread in anticipation. Gently, reverently, I would caress the globes of his perfectly formed ass. Allowing him to feel the full weight of my body on top of his, I would drape myself over him and lick the shell of his ear, feeling the shudder skitter down his spine. ‘Lick them’ I would command him, two of my fingers in front of his mouth. Sensually, he would suck my fingers in, caressing them with his tongue before releasing them. Using the wetness from his mouth, I would circle his hole with my fingers. Gently, I would push a finger just inside, reveling in the feel of it contracting against my finger. He would be so tight, your Captain. He would be shaking with the effort of restraining himself, his whole body strung tight enough that a single move would sent him shattering into oblivion. But not yet.”

“’Do you want me?’ I would whisper in his ear. So lost in the sensation of my finger gently working his entrance, he would only be able to nod his head. Unable to resist, I would nip his ear playfully. ‘Then make yourself ready for me.’ At my fevered command, your Captain would move his fingers to his own mouth, gently sucking on them. Using his own saliva, he would slowly work a single finger into his hole. Noticing the way his eyes would flutter, I would roughly grab the base of his penis. ‘Don’t come until I say you can.’ He would nod and continue to slowly work his finger in and out of his hole. Soon, he would add a second finger and scissor them in an attempt to prepare himself quickly, knowing he was close, but obeying my command. What a vision your Captain would be, Spock, using his own fingers to prepare his ass to accommodate the girth of my penis.”

Jim stared in horror at the hologram as the Goblin King pulled his hard penis from the confines of his pants and began to stroke himself.

“Once he removed his fingers from his ass, I would know he was ready for me to fill him. Taking my place on the divan, I would position myself at his entrance and slowly push my head past the barrier. For a moment, I would hold there, allowing us both the opportunity to gain control. The tight heat would be nearly too much for me, and I wouldn’t want to come too soon and ruin all of our fun. When Jim wiggled his hips back against me, I would know it was time to move my hips. Inch by glorious inch, I would sink myself into the warmth of your Captain’s body, enjoying the feel of him squeezing me, surrounding me, consuming me. Just as slowly, I would ease out of his ass until only the tip of my penis remained inside; feeling his body relax, I would thrust my hips all the way home, savoring the way his back would arch at the sudden invasion of his body. Knowing I would be unable to hold off for much longer, I would reach around and grasp his penis in my hand and time each of my strokes with the thrust of my hips. After a couple of hard thrusts, I would lean up and whisper, ‘Come for me’ into his ear. The delight I would feel as he shattered around me and in my hand would be truly indescribable.”

Eyes widened to the point where he feared he’d never be able to close them, Jim watched as Jareth finished his verbal fantasy with a floor show and his ejaculate coated his hand, some of it staining the floor.

“Accurate, wouldn’t you agree, Jim?” Jareth asked.

  


 **Part 8**

Jim stared at the hologram of Jareth, unable to form a coherent thought. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he knew there was a question he needed to answer, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember it. As his brain fumbled around for something productive to do, Jareth’s grin grew wider. The Goblin King licked his lips lasciviously, tilted his head back and laughed. The sound was humorless and clawed against Jim’s ears like nails on a chalkboard. Jump-started by the discomfort of the sound, Jim’s brain began to function once more. He tore his gaze away from Jareth and allowed his eyes to settle on Spock. The Vulcan’s dilated eyes were shadowed by self-loathing. For a moment, Jim feared Spock would refuse to meet his gaze. Then Spock’s eyes met Jim’s. Silently, the two assessed one another. While the sight of Spock restrained made Jim feel both anguish and fury, it was nothing compared to the knowledge of what the Vulcan had been forced to witness. That would be Jim’s eternal shame.

Jareth had changed the game again. As Jim slowly stood, the communicator balanced on his palm, he resolved to maneuver his way out of the imminent checkmate, which he figured was two moves away. In order to work his way out of Jareth’s trap, he needed to use caution when choosing his next move. Now was not the time for his typical approach to problems. Immediately, he dismissed his gut desire to act out violently against Jareth. Aside from the obvious futility of attacking a hologram, he knew an overtly offensive move would place him decidedly in checkmate.

His trademark, self-assured smirk on his face, Jim switched his gaze back to Jareth.

“Now Jareth,” Jim began, “a gentleman never kisses and tells.”

Jim held his breath as he waited for Jareth’s reaction. When the Goblin King inclined his head ever so slightly, Jim breathed out slowly. He winked cheekily at Jareth for good measure.

Jim turned his eyes once more to his First Officer.

“Commander Spock,” Jim addressed him formally. He smiled inside when he saw Spock straighten in his chains.

“I expect you to continue to comport yourself in a manner befitting a Starfleet officer – more importantly, I expect you to conduct yourself in a manner befitting the First Officer of the _Enterprise_ – a ship I will return you to soon.”

The hologram of Spock merely raised an eyebrow.

Satisfied that Spock had understood, Jim turned his focus once more to the Goblin King.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a labyrinth to finish.”

Jareth’s amused laughter echoed as Jim turned off the communicator. Alone, and hopefully no longer under Jareth’s watchful eyes, Jim allowed his shoulders to sag, his pretense of bravado no longer necessary. Only to himself, he admitted how dire the situation now was; only to himself did he admit that he might not be able to successfully return the Vulcan to the _Enterprise_. If Spock failed to return to his post as First Officer, it would be because the Captain had also failed to return. Either they were both leaving this planet or neither of them were.

Growling and snapping noises pulled Jim from his dark thoughts. Unsure of a better direction to take, Jim chose to investigate. The closer he came to the sound, the more he was able to ascertain the probable cause of the ruckus. Based on the tone of the growl, the beast was undoubtedly large. He paused behind a hedge; the sounds were coming from just the other side of it.

“I sure hope you’re friendly,” Jim mumbled.

He rounded the edge of the hedge and saw a large, furry, orange-brown beast with horns. He was suspended by his legs, surrounded by smaller creatures holding miniature pinching animals attached to sticks. They would charge the restrained beast and allow the pinching animals to bite into his flesh. The giant beast appeared to be in a great deal of pain, and was unable to defend himself.

Maybe it was having just seen the desire of his heart (First Officer of the _Enterprise_ , he mentally corrected himself) tied up and defenseless that softened his heart toward the oversized creature, or maybe Jim was just an idiot, but hidden slightly by the shrub, Jim watched the small creatures, who were heavily armored, looking for an opening. Just as he was about to move in and simply force them away - after all he was a good foot and a half taller than they were, and he had some seriously repressed anger to deal with - a rock about the size of a potato bumped against the back of his foot. With a smile, Jim tossed the rock in his palm, feeling its weight. Satisfied, he threw the rock at the head of the nearest creature. He watched, amusement seeping into his system, as the small creature’s helmet spun around while it emitted high-pitched noises of distress. As it became disoriented, the creature began to swing his arms about wildly. The pinching critter attached to the stick in his hand began to bite not just the great beast, but the other small creatures. Another potato-sized rock hit the back of his foot; able to take a hint, Jim picked up the rock and threw it at another of the creatures. In a similar manner, he began to flail around aimlessly. Eventually, the chaos and bites became too much for the small creatures, which tucked tail and ran off down one of the shrub-lined passageways.

Once they were gone, Jim approached the beast who was growling in earnest.

“Shhh. Calm down there, buddy,” Jim spoke to the beast softly. “I’m going to get you down from here, but you can’t eat me.”

The beast stopped growling and looked curiously at Jim, as if assessing the diminutive being in front of him.

When Jim moved to remove the ropes, the beast began thrashing around and growling angrily. Surprised by the sudden violence, Jim stumbled back, but in the process, tripped over one of the stone slabs and landed on his ass…hard. He glared up at the beast, which had calmed down slightly, but still moaned pathetically.

“You don’t want my help?” Jim asked the beast from his spot on the ground. “Fine. I’ll leave you there, upside down. Eventually, the blood will all rush to your head and you’ll pass out – maybe. Not sure what kind of creature you are. Maybe you don’t have a blood system that works the same as mine.”

“Ludo down!” the beast cried pitifully.

Jim stood to his feet. “We tried that once, remember? It ended with me laying there –“ Jim pointed to the ground, “on my ass.”

“Ludo down!”

“Yeah fine,” Jim conceded, “Ludo down.”

Jim walked over to where the small creatures had tied the rope to the root of a large tree. The rope was a wide as his wrist, and he wondered, briefly, how the small things had managed to tie it. And how they’d managed to capture Ludo. With all the force he could muster, he pulled on the rope until the knot came loose. Ludo tumbled to the ground.

“Sorry!” Jim called to the beast.

Once Ludo had righted himself, Jim walked cautiously over to him, still unsure about his intentions.

Ludo’s large eyes peered at Jim. “Friend?”

Jim chuckled, “Friend.”  
 

*          *          *

  
Jareth tucked himself back into his pants, a satisfied smile upon his face. James T. Kirk was a prize worth waiting for, indeed. He turned to face the Vulcan. Not all of his plans were working out as he’d envisioned. By this point, he’d anticipated both men would be disheartened, if not enough to completely give up on the labyrinth, at least enough to give up on each other. Unfortunately, it appeared the opposite was closer to the truth. He might need to be more direct in his attempts to sever the trust between the Captain and his First Officer. The only way for Jareth to truly possess Jim in the manner he desired was to obliterate any relationship he may currently share with his First Officer.

“Not exactly the touching farewell I’d expected from your Captain,” Jareth said.

“As I have told you on previous occasions, Jareth,” Spock began, “the Captain appears to remain consistent only in his inconsistency.”

“Indeed,” Jareth agreed. “I find it to be one of his most attractive qualities.”

Spock remained silent, which only incensed Jareth further.

“Do you want to know how the communicator works?” Jareth asked.

“If you wish to tell me, there is nothing I can do to prevent you; therefore, my desires are irrelevant to the outcome of this discussion.”

“It was my first gift to him,” Jareth explained. He paced slowly in front of Spock, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. “It was an attempt to prevent him from coming after you. At the time, I believed I could simply remind him of what he could have without you as an interference in his life. Of course, I now know that would never have worked. You are too important to the Captain for any trinket to dissuade him from chasing after you. The device is actually quite simple. Are you familiar with Earth fairy tales?”

“I possess a cursory knowledge of some Earth tales. They are illogical,” Spock replied.

“Indeed, they are highly illogical, but full of such beautiful human emotion. The one I refer to is about a Beast and a beautiful young girl. He gives her a mirror that will show her anything she desires to see. In the case of my communicator, it will allow the bearer to see the desire of his or her heart.”

Jareth watched Spock’s impassive face closely, hoping to see some sort of emotional response. There was nothing to read from the Vulcan’s face.

“He must have asked to see the desire of his heart. Odd that it would show him my throne room,” Jareth mused aloud, pretending to be speaking only to himself.

Spock analyzed the information he was receiving from the Goblin King. While he found the fairy tale analogy curious because it alluded to Jareth being the Beast and Jim the beautiful young girl, he also found it irrelevant to the overall point of Jareth’s pronouncement. He was unaccountably pleased to know Jim had refused the Goblin King’s offer and had chosen instead to come to his aide. He was, however, highly irritated that the Captain would act so irresponsibly. He had an entire crew under his command. The needs of the many always superseded the needs of the one. Though his actions, illogical as they may have been, did follow his typical pattern. He would have acted the same for any other member of the crew.

As for the communicator allowing communication only between the bearer and the bearer’s heart’s desire, there were only three logical possibilities. The first, Spock quickly dismissed – Jareth would not lie about the communicator’s purpose. His goal was to cause emotional pain to Spock and, it appeared, to the Captain. It was more logical to presume the communicator worked exactly as the Goblin King had described. Either Jim’s heart’s desire was the Goblin King, or (and Spock did not feel his heart beat a bit faster, he was a Vulcan) he was the desire of Jim’s heart.

“Have you figured it out yet, Spock?” Jareth asked. “Jim’s heart’s desire? It’s obvious.”

“Indeed,” Spock replied.

“If Jim desires you –” Jareth began, “Which given his tendency to ignore my offers of peace, would indicate he does, then I wonder why instead of offering some sort of solace to you, he would simply offer a veiled reprimand and continue on as though nothing uncomfortable had occurred.”

Spock inclined his head. He knew his Captain’s abrupt behavior might suggest such a conclusion; however, he knew Jareth’s conclusion to be incorrect. Based on Jim’s reaction, he had been unaware that Jareth knew Jim was watching. Likewise, Spock had been unaware the Captain was privy to Jareth’s exposition.  Logically, it would be unnecessary for either party to offer apologies or explanations for events beyond their control and knowledge. Of course, Spock doubted Jim had thought through any of this before issuing his command. It was more probable that upon seeing Spock restrained, Jim had assumed Spock would be feeling disheartened. Knowing how much Spock desired order and composure, his Captain would have chosen to remind Spock of his duty, his position, and offered him encouragement to help battle the negative emotions. While the emotional support was unnecessary, given his Vulcan heritage, it was the Captain’s duty to remind Spock of his position on the _Enterprise_ and maintain the level of professional behavior expected of all Starfleet officers.

“As the Captain,” Spock began his answer, each word chosen with precision, “he may choose to reprimand me if he finds my behavior less than satisfactory.”

“I didn’t think that moment was conducive to Captain-First Officer interactions. It would have made more sense for him to attempt to _comfort_ you. He must have seen how you were suffering. I speak of more than just the chains, Spock. You did not know he was a witness until the end. He knew the entire time.”

Without responding to Jareth, Spock processed this piece of information. Jim was a rare human, as he was one of the few humans who knew how deeply Vulcans _felt_. Once he had accepted the post of First Officer of the _Enterprise,_ he had found it necessary to explain his violent reaction on the bridge. He had needed to assure the Captain that such a mutinous act would never again occur. Through their discussion, Jim had learned the depths of Vulcan emotions in a way many humans never would. The Vulcan emotionless façade came from their ability to use logic above all else. When Spock had informed his Captain of this, Jim had smiled and told Spock that was a fancy way of describing a defense mechanism. Their ensuing discussion had not kept Spock from making his point clear to his Captain. It had been Jim who had been able to elicit an emotional response from him on multiple occasions. The scene on the bridge was the only one to end in violence, but in the months following the Narada incident, Jim was the only person capable of consistently making Spock display any sort of emotion.

As he analyzed the nuances of these conversations, he felt his spine relax. His Captain was correct in reminding Spock of his duty. In the time he had been the prisoner of the Goblin King, Spock had lost himself to his emotions more times than was acceptable, even by human standards. While he had only shown these emotions when Jim was in some way in danger, he assured himself it was simply because Jim was his Captain. It certainly had nothing to do with learning about the desire of Jim’s heart. Nor did it have anything to do with Spock feeling a measure of reassurance that his Captain might harbor some affection toward his First Officer. None of this was a factor in his loss of his iron-clad control. If Spock were to explore those feelings, however, he would have been forced to acknowledge a small feeling in the back of his mind, a part which he had forcibly shut and reinforced with numerous barriers after the destruction of his planet. A part of his mind at which he refused to look too closely – primarily because that one, small part of his brain could be the end of the Vulcan. It was a risk Spock refused to take. He ignored the small voice which told him that Jim would take the risk for him…it was illogical, as Jim would never be in such a situation as he was not in fact a Vulcan.

“You believe it,” Jareth breathed, almost not believing it himself.

Spock raised a single eyebrow at the Goblin King.

“You believe you are the desire of Jim’s heart.”

Spock’s continuing silence confirmed Jareth’s deepest fears. He needed to have Jim through the labyrinth and in his arms before something even he couldn’t break occurred between the Vulcan and the human. It would be even better if he could prevent it from happening by replacing the Vulcan part of the equation with himself.

“Tell me, Spock,” Jareth began, “will Jim’s heart be filled with unrequited love? Are you capable of returning his feelings? Even if you are, wouldn’t it be better for Jim to be with someone who shares his sense of life, his sense of adventure?”

“Perhaps it would be better for Jim, yes,” Spock responded slowly, softly. He paused when Jareth smiled, apparently thinking he’d cornered Spock. “I doubt, however, that you would be better able to fulfill those needs than would I. If compatibility was your primary concern, it would be better to see the Captain with another human.”

Jareth glared at Spock. “In three hours, his time will be up and compatibility will no longer be a concern.”

“Indeed.”

 **Part 9**

After wandering around the labyrinth with his new companion for a while, Jim gave up on striking up any sort of conversation with the beast called Ludo. He wondered if this was how Spock viewed most of the humans he encountered. A small smile touched his lips as he decided this must be exactly how Spock felt; as though he were surrounded by endless numbers of humans unable to engage in any sort of satisfying conversation due to their lack of logic. Once again, the thought of Spock caused his chest to twinge. He knew the communicator had shown him the desire of his heart; he had known before the hologram of the Goblin King’s lair appeared that it would show him Spock. He also knew how illogical his feelings were. While he wasn’t at the point of spouting sonnets (not that James T. Kirk did such a thing), he was a bit more attached to his First Officer than a mere Captain-First Officer relationship dictated.

When he ran into a large, immovable body, Jim was jarred from his thoughts. He stepped around Ludo. In front of him were two doors.

“Of course,” Jim muttered.

Ludo cast him a glance, but didn’t say anything.

The two doors were massive, each bearing a large, gargoyle style knocker. He moved between the two restlessly. He was beginning to tire of the labyrinth and its ‘choose this or choose that’…he wanted to find Spock. He wanted one of these doors to just simply take him to his First Officer, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. After scolding himself for indulging in such useless - and depressing - thoughts, Jim faced the wooden doors once more.

“It’s very rude to stare!” the knocker on the left barked.

Thinking of how much the gruff voice and attitude reminded him of Bones, Jim couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the doorknocker’s outburst.

“It’s even ruder to laugh.”

Jim shook his head. “Maybe I’m just a rude, rude man.”

“Speak up, can’t hear you when you mumble,” the knocker continued.

Mumbled noises from the knocker on the right drew Jim’s attention away from the other. He peered closer at each of the knockers. The one on the left had his handle stuck in his ears, and couldn’t hear anything. The one on the right had the handle stuck in his mouth and couldn’t say anything.

“That makes things simpler,” Jim told Ludo, thinking of his encounter with the last door guards.

Ludo simply tilted his head, clearly clueless.

Since the two options before him were obvious, Jim reached into his pocket and withdrew the coin. With an efficiency produced by practice, Jim tossed the coin into the air and caught it.

“Heads.” Jim turned to Ludo. “We go to the right.”

Jim reached up, grasped the circular handle of the right knocker and banged it against the door. The door swung open and Jim walked through, confidence he didn’t feel marking his steps. He looked around this new part of the labyrinth with wide eyes. It was a forest. In fact, it looked so drastically different from any previous part of the labyrinth, he wondered if he’d been transported somewhere else entirely. He dismissed that thought when he noticed the sparkle bouncing off the rocks and roots around him. While he was relieved to be free of the serpentine paths of the maze and the desolation at the beginning of the labyrinth, the way the trees closed in around him was oppressive and filled him with a new sense of dread.

He turned back to the doorway and saw Ludo still standing there stupidly. He shook his head.

“Come on,” Jim encouraged, “Not anything for you back there.”

Ludo hesitantly walked through the doorway, and jumped when the door slammed shut behind him. Of course Jim would find the only beast on the planet who was gentle, and doubtless afraid of his own shadow.

Jim moved deeper into the forest, feeling the sounds of the night against his skin. The whole place made him jumpy. Maybe it was the oppressive heat and the dampness of the air. He wouldn’t admit that maybe it was the closed-in feeling that reminded him too much of the oubliette, which reminded him of Jareth’s little exhibition. No, he wouldn’t admit that. A lack of a familiar sound forced Jim to stop. He turned around. The giant beast was simply gone.

“Ludo?”

“LUDO!”

Jim spun around a couple of times. Ludo had just disappeared. He would have heard his lumbering gait, especially if the scared beast decided to make a run for it. Tracing his steps back, he noticed the ground gave a bit more than it did further ahead. Jim knelt down to examine the patch of earth more closely. Sure enough, there was a clear discoloration between the patch he was currently standing on and the bit further ahead of him. While he hoped Ludo was safe, Jim didn’t have the time to stop and look for the poor beast. He was on a deadline.

“Lost someone else, Captain?”

“Resorting to trap doors, Goblin King?”

“He was going to help you.”

Jim looked blankly at the Goblin King.

“Well, he was.”

“And you took it upon yourself to remove him from my side?”

“You do have a habit of losing the people closest to you.”

Fire blazed from Jim’s eyes as they met the cruel glint in the Goblin King’s eyes.

“I will get Spock back.”

“So you keep saying.”

“My time isn’t up yet, Jareth. You haven’t won.”

“You really believe you can defeat me?”

Jim met the Goblin King’s gaze. Did he? There were moments where Jim felt the task before him was impossible. There were times where he doubted his ability to rescue Spock. Earlier, while viewing the debauchery on the hologram, Jim had felt helpless, useless…defenseless. Nothing had ever made him feel quite so exposed, so vulnerable.

“It’s okay, Jim,” Jareth cooed. He placed one of his hands on Jim’s shoulder. “No one expected you to defeat my labyrinth. It will all get so much easier once you submit to me.”

Jim hung his head. He’d failed Spock, and he was a worse coward than even Hoggle. Who was he to tell Spock to maintain his professionalism, to remember his duty, when Jim was unable to do either? He remembered the look on Spock’s face before he’d closed the communicator. Spock continued to have faith in Jim’s ability to save him.

“You’re the one who fails to understand me, Jareth. I will never submit to you. Even if I don’t complete your labyrinth in time, I will _never_ submit to you. I will never be yours.”

“What a pity.”

Suddenly, the once solid ground beneath Jim’s feet gave way to air as he felt himself falling. Unlike the last tunnel he had fallen through, this one had no hands to help him. The further he fell, the worse the smell became, until he felt himself gagging. He could see a dim light indicating the end of the tunnel, and knew that whatever was causing the smell had to be coming from beyond its opening. Seeing a thick branch near the base of the tunnel’s mouth, Jim grabbed for it, and held on for dear life.

“The Bog of Eternal Stench,” Jareth’s voice echoed down the tunnel. “The smell will never come out if you touch it. Wouldn’t want to upset Spock’s sensitive sense of smell with that stench, would you? I warned you about my generosity, Jim. You should have come willingly when you had the chance.”

Even in his precarious position, Jim snorted at Jareth. Jim didn’t believe in no-win scenarios; he wasn’t going to change his stance now. Spock still believed in him; he ignored the voice that told him Spock _had_ to believe in him. Jim felt the strain in his arms, and shook his head to clear the morose thoughts. He needed to focus on what was going on now, on things he could control. There was a narrow ledge along the rock face, and if he were very careful, and very lucky (both of which were not likely) he would be able to slink along the rock wall to the far side of the Bog. At the first tentative step he took, the ledge crumbled away, pieces of stone plunking into the Bog.

“Yep. Thought as much,” Jim grumbled.

He cast the pieces of rubble a disgusted look. A long object falling past his face distracted him from unleashing his silent wrath upon the inanimate object.

“Take the rope,” Hoggle instructed.

Jim rolled his eyes. This just kept getting better, but as before, he didn’t have a better option. The next time the rope swung within his line of sight, he was ready. With a firm grip, he took the rope and hoped this wasn’t the single most foolish thing he’d ever done. He closed his eyes as he felt the rope swing him precariously over the Bog. Strong, furry arms caught him around the waist; he peeked one eye open. Relief coursed through him as he realized Ludo was standing on the far side of the Bog.

“Smells bad,” Ludo moaned.

“I know buddy,” Jim said as he gave a reassuring pat to the creature’s arm. “Need you to put me down now.”

Ludo appeared to have no intention of putting Jim down. He squeezed Jim tighter when Jim wriggled in his grasp.

“LUDO! Put me down, now!”

Reluctantly, the giant beast placed Jim on the ground, his head hung low.

The look sort of reminded Jim of Chekov whenever he felt he was being reprimanded. It was like looking at a kicked puppy. He still couldn’t deal with that look. It simply wasn’t fair. With a sigh, Jim reached up and patted Ludo’s arm.

“Sorry to yell, but I couldn’t do anything useful from up there, right? We need to get away from this God-awful smell.”

“Not sure what you’re so optimistic about,” Hoggle said, “Still need to cross the Bog without touching it.”

“No more helpful comments from you, Hoggle,” Jim ordered, his best Captain’s voice unleashed.

Hoggle grumbled under his breath, but overall remained silent. Satisfied with his compliance, Jim nodded before turning to face the Bog. There were a couple of rocks in the middle, but it was quite a distance to jump, if one had to be sure of reaching their destination. His hand stroked his chin idly as he thought through the problem.

Suddenly, Ludo began to growl. His growls increased in volume and the ground seemed to shake with their tenor.

“Ludo, what are you doing? Stop that!”

Ludo ignored him and continued to growl.

Jim had to spread his arms out to maintain balance as the ground beneath his feet continued to shake. His eyes widened comically as he saw giant boulders rolling towards them. Hoggle, of course, was trying to find a place to hide, but was unsuccessful as it was difficult to hide from both an earthquake and building-sized rocks. Jim looked between the rocks and Ludo, realization dawning.

“You’re controlling the rocks!”

Without breaking his continual growl, Ludo nodded his large head.

“Couldn’t figure out how to get you off the ledge, but he can call rocks,” Hoggle mused aloud. “Figures.”

“Wait,” Jim began, turning to face Hoggle, “ _You_ rigged the rope?”

“Well, it wasn’t ‘im,” Hoggle gestured towards Ludo.

Amazed, Jim shook his head softly.

“Rocks friends,” Ludo announced.

The rocks had lined up, creating a bridge across the Bog of Eternal Stench. Jim smiled to himself. Jareth might have it out for him, but it seemed he’d made some rather impressive friends on this planet. While he fought down the surge of arrogant self-assuredness that wanted to bubble forth, he did not deny himself the pleasure of finally feeling as though he might win this fight.

“Good boy, Ludo,” Jim congratulated as he began to walk across the rock-bridge.

Once he and Ludo were safely across, he looked back and saw Hoggle still standing on the bank, unsure.

“You think the rocks are waiting for you specifically before they decide to move and dump your useless self in the Bog?” Jim asked.

“My – useless – why – I,” Hoggle sputtered as he hastily crossed the rock-bridge.

Jim smirked at Hoggle’s glare.

“No wonder Jareth likes you,” Hoggle jabbed as he moved around Jim.

Jim opened his mouth to protest, but realized the little critter was right.  
 

*          *          *

  
Jareth shook his head as he paced the throne room restlessly. For once, Spock remained silent, not wanting to further irritate the Goblin King. He’d taken Jim’s order to heart. He had no intention of provoking Jareth or of allowing himself to be easily maneuvered into an emotionally compromised position. Even if the provocation was Jim.

“This is simply unacceptable,” Jareth announced.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

“The labyrinth should have destroyed him by now. It is infuriating. No matter what I do to him, he continues on through my labyrinth. He’s only human, by far a weaker species. Yet,” Jareth paused, “something gives him strength. Or – ”

Spock ensured his spine remained rigid as Jareth’s gaze settled on him. There was something infinitely more dangerous in the Goblin King’s gaze now. It was as though all of his earlier attempts to thwart Jim had simply been some form of amusing game, but now it appeared that Jareth was finished playing. Spock followed Jareth with his eyes as the Goblin King prowled across the room; Jareth came to a halt directly in front of Spock, his nostrils flaring with repressed anger.

“You’ve taken him, haven’t you, Vulcan?”

Spock tilted his head to the side, curiously. “Taken him? I am unfamiliar with the implications of your question.”

“Don’t play stupid, Spock, it’s unbecoming of one of your intelligence. I know the way Vulcans mate. You’ve mated with Jim, given him your strength, your serenity…in return, he has given you some of his rashness. Yes, that explains your earlier outbursts.” Jareth’s voice had gone from irate to intrigued as he processed his thoughts aloud.

Spock’s eyes widened slightly as the implications of Jareth’s assumptions crashed down on him.  It was unheard of for an outsider to know the details of a Vulcan bonding, but he did suppose Jareth would have at least an inkling. He was fairly certain the Goblin King had a portion of Romulan blood flowing through his veins. If he was correct, he would know something of Vulcan culture, as certain more intimate aspects were similar to other species which shared Vulcan heritage.

“Answer me!”

The Vulcan considered the question, and more importantly, the answer he should give to the Goblin King. While it was widely believed that Vulcans did not lie, he was half-human, and had on occasion offered a fallacy or two. Usually, such were offered in the form of half-truths, or by simply allowing someone to believe as they would, without offering to correct them. His current dilemma concerned such an action. He could allow the Goblin King to believe as he would about his and Jim’s relationship, or he could correct Jareth’s faulty notion. While the idea of being bonded to Jim was not – unpleasant, he did not want to make such an important decision based upon any _feelings_ he may have on the matter. In this instance, he needed to employ the best of his Vulcan logic.

“It would also explain why the communicator revealed you when Jim activated it.”

Spock believed the communicator worked precisely as Jareth had said, which left only one possible conclusion. This consequently offered him an acceptable response to Jareth’s questions. While it would not state that he and Jim were bonded it would leave enough room for Jareth to Jareth to interpret his statement in that manner.

“I am the desire of Jim’s heart.”

 **Part 10**

Jim, Hoggle and Ludo moved away from the Bog as quickly as they could, eager to be away from the smell. However, it seemed to follow them as they walked, and Ludo continued to cover his nose in an attempt to block it out. The sounds of animals and plants broke the silence with their cries, causing Ludo to jump when one sounded particularly loud or too close to the little troop of companions. Jim looked up at the canopy created by the treetops, hoping for a break…a small piece of sky.

“Shouldn’t the smell become less awful this far away from it?” Jim asked.

“Bog smell goes on forever in these parts,” Hoggle answered.

“Halt!”

Lodo jumped and attempted to cower behind Jim. Jim shot an annoyed look over his shoulder. Honestly, the creature was three times his size. He was glad he had heard the shout because he had completely missed the bridge. He looked down and saw a narrow river which cut across their current path and went on as far as he could see. It appeared as though the Bog River created some sort of boundary line. If it was, it would explain the guard on the bridge. Maybe this meant they were coming closer to the Goblin King’s castle. It seemed a sensible enough conclusion to make, even though Spock would undoubtedly want to procure more evidence. Jim felt going with his gut would be sufficient in this case.

Jim looked down at the fox-like creature who had hollered at them.

“And you are?”

“I am Sir Didymus, the guardian of this bridge.”

Jim smiled, the one he used on diplomatic missions, or when he and his crew were hauled to some sort of fancy affair where they wanted to show off the saviors of Earth. The one that disarmed people.

“Sir Didymus, I am Captain James T. Kirk of the _USS Enterprise_. My friends and I need to get to the Goblin King’s castle at the center of the labyrinth. We need to cross your fine bridge in order to do that.”

Sir Didymus offered a small, courtly bow. “Captain Kirk, I am sorry. I cannot allow you to cross. I have sworn with my life’s blood that none shall pass without my permission.”

“Ohhh,” Hoggle grumbled, “We can’t go back to the Bog.”

“Smells bad,” Ludo agreed. Apparently overcoming his fear of an animal the size of his big toe, Ludo began to march toward the bridge.

Jim watched, a small smile on his face as Sir Didymus scrambled around Ludo and placed himself between the great beast and the other side of the bridge. Without hesitation, Sir Didymus pulled a sword which Ludo cold have used as a toothpick, and stabbed it into Ludo’s foot. Immediately, the larger beast howled in pain and jumped on his uninjured leg. In retaliation, Ludo swung one of his giant arms out to knock the little fox off his feet, but being small allowed Sir Didymus to jump aside and miss the arm. Ludo continued to madly swing his arms, which forced Sir Didymus to scramble around to avoid being struck. When Ludo began to growl, Jim knew he was calling the rocks. When the giant boulders began to enter the area, the small fox was forced to evade both Ludo’s lumbering attacks and the rolling boulders. Eventually, Sir Didymus was forced to climb up a tree to avoid being hit.

“Sir Ludo!” Sir Didymus called from his perch in the tree.

Ludo, who had finally stopped howling, looked up.

“Canst thou summon up the very rocks?”

For a moment, Ludo just looked confused by the question. “Sure. Rocks friends.”

Sir Didymus jumped down from the tree and gave the group a fairly wide berth as he made his way back to the bridge.

“May we pass your bridge now?” Jim asked, a hint of amusement coloring his voice.

“I admit you have defeated me - my honor is lost in that manner; however, I have given an oath and while I still have blood, none may pass.”

Jim groaned. He admired the honor Sir Didymus displayed, but it was inconvenient. He needed to get to Spock.

“What exactly did you give an oath to do?” Jim asked, struggling to keep his voice pleasant. He really just wanted to have Ludo pick the little thing up and carry him across the bridge with them, but his tenacious dedication to his duty was admirable. Jim would save that for a last resort.

“I have sworn with my life's blood that none shall pass this way without _my_ permission!”

A smile lit Jim’s face. “Then, Sir Didymus, may we have your permission to cross this bridge?”

Sir Didymus looked up at Jim and blinked a couple of times. “Well I, uh... I... that is, uh... hm... Yes?”

Jim smiled. “Thank you, Sir Didymus for finding us worthy enough to earn your permission to cross the bridge. You are truly a noble guardian.”

The faint pink tinge touching the little fox’s cheeks made Jim smile and Hoggle snort.

Hoggle raced across the bridge, not trusting the offer would last. Jim shook his head and followed. The bridge was old - very old.

“You sure this will hold us?” Jim called back to Sir Didymus.

“Of course, Captain Kirk. This bridge has been here for hundreds of years.”

“That’s what worries me,” Jim mumbled.

“Fear not, Captain Kirk. I will see you safely across the bridge.”

“There is no need for you to abandon your post, noble sir.”

Sir Didymus hung his head. “I am no longer worthy of my duty, Captain Kirk. I was hoping to join you and Sir Ludo on your quest. Maybe through assisting you I can regain my honor and someday return to my post.”

Jim looked at the little thing, so full of pride and honor. He knew it was foolish to get another inhabitant of this planet wrapped up in his crazy venture, but he just couldn’t deny the pitiful thing.

“It would by my honor to have you join us on our quest.”

“Might I inquire as to the nature of this quest?”

“He’s going to fight Jareth. He’s going to the castle at the center of the labyrinth,” Hoggle called from the opposite side of the bridge.

“A noble quest indeed, Captain Kirk.”

“Thank you.”

“Ambrosias?” Sir Didymus called, “It’s safe now. You can come out.”

From the far side of the bridge, Jim watched as Sir Didymus mounted his faithful steed. At every turn, the planet became more and more strange. The “steed” was a large white and grey dog.

“Come now, Ambrosias. We will help our new friends complete their quest so that I might regain my honor.”

The group continued on through the forest, Sir Didymus in the lead. Jim began to fall behind the others. He had a prickling feeling at the base of his neck; they were being followed. Hopefully, he could deal with whomever or whatever was following them without alerting the others.

“Oh Jim,” Jareth sing-songed.

Jim watched the other three disappear into the horizon before he turned to face Jareth. The Goblin King was leaning casually against one of the trees, his left knee bent, the foot resting against the trunk of the tree. The hardness in the Goblin King’s eyes made Jim worry his bottom lip a little, not that the Captain of the _Enterprise_ was nervous. It was simply because there was a new level of cool formality between them, even with the sugary voice Jareth had used. Again, the game had changed, and it appeared that Jareth was once more in charge of the moves.

“Jareth,” Jim greeted.

“You found your friends.”

Jim inclined his head. “I told you I would.”

“So you did, Jim. So you did.”

The two continued to stare at each other, while the silence stretched between them. Jim wanted to catch up with the others, but something kept him rooted to the spot. There was a feeling of anticipation surrounding the Goblin King, and it made the hairs on the back of Jim’s neck stand at attention.

“I underestimated you, Jim. I apologize for that error, though I fear it will bring us both a great deal of pain before this is over,” Jareth began slowly.

If Jim didn’t know better, he would swear Jareth looked a bit nervous, or at least hesitant. It was as if the words were forcing themselves out of his lips without his consent.

“My resolve has not wavered, and therein lies our difficulty. I will have you as my own, but Spock stands between us. Your connection to the Vulcan causes me deep concern. I cannot allow you to remain attached to him. Take this.”

In his hand, the Goblin King held a peach. Realizing how long it had been since he’d eaten last, Jim’s stomach growled, and to his shame, his mouth watered at the sight of the piece of fruit. He reached to take the offered sustenance, but pulled his hand back as though he’d been burnt. He didn’t trust Jareth; he trusted the hard look in his eyes less.

“Jim, this is your last chance. Take the fruit. You’re hungry.”

“And out of your concern for my wellbeing you thought to be a generous host and bring me a peach?”

“I am concerned for your wellbeing, more concerned that you could imagine. Please, Jim. Take the fruit before it’s too late.”

“You know,” Jim began, his hand cupping his chin, “threatening me doesn’t exactly make me want to trust you enough to take it. You gave me the same offer with the communicator. Do you expect my answer to be different this time?”

“Foolishly, perhaps I did, Jim. I hoped you had learned something from your earlier refusal. No matter. You will eat the peach, Jim.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Yes, Jim. You will eat it. Spock’s depending on it.”

Jim felt the blood drain from his face. Ice cold fear raced down his spine. He watched Jareth pull a crystal ball about the size of the peach from – somewhere (there were no pockets in his skin-tight spandex pants) - and toss it into the air. For a few seconds it simply hung there, but slowly it began to spin and then dissolve into a view of the throne room. As before, Jim saw Spock in chains. He was not alone, however. Two smaller goblins were in the room with him, each holding a stick.

“Release Spock, and send us back to our ship, Jareth. This is the last time I will give you a peaceful offer,” Jim said.

“Perhaps we both cling to foolish hopes of each other.”

Jim’s lip quirked up in a humorless, half-grin. “Perhaps.”

“Eat the peach, Jim. Eat the peach, or Spock will suffer for it.”

Jim looked at Spock. He was torn. He didn’t want Spock to suffer any more because of him. The request was simple enough, but Jim had learned quickly that things on this planet were not always what they seemed. Plus, there was the act of complying with Jareth’s demand to consider. He refused to be a coward; he refused to hold Spock to higher standards than he held himself. Easy acquiescence was unacceptable.

“I don’t want the peach, Jareth.”

“What a pity.”  
 

*          *          *

  
“Jim will give into me, Spock. When the pain stops, you’ll know he said yes to me.”

Spock hadn’t had long to ponder the Goblin King’s parting words. Two goblins, each carrying a pointed stick, entered the throne room. He regarded them curiously, wondering why the Goblin King would leave such a task to underlings. Spock prepared himself for an attack as much as he could in his restraints. He found it most unsettling that he was to be left in suspense. He failed to comprehend why Jareth would choose this moment to remove his view of Jim. It was logical for him to be allowed to watch his Captain’s progress. His anxiety at being denied a view of his Captain was certainly not based on something as insubstantial as an emotion. It was not his newfound attachment to his Captain, the knowledge that he was the desire of Jim’s heart, his no longer platonic feelings toward his Captain. His frustration was acceptable because without the projection, he was unable to continue to monitor Jim’s progress. Logical.

One of the goblins held his arm so that it was fully extended while the other goblin poked the tip of his index finger with the spear. Searing pan shot up Spock’s arm at the contact. Of course, Jareth would know how sensitive a Vulcan’s hands were, and would find such methods the most expedient means of torture. He knew Jareth was with Jim out in the labyrinth, but Spock still forced himself to remain as immobile as possible. Knowing the point of all torture was to cause the person to react, he refused to do so. Just as the pain had abated slightly, the goblin stuck his finger in the same exact place, doubling the pain of the first wound. Still, Spock remained silent. The only outward sign of his growing discomfort was the slight contortion of his face.

In order to distract himself from the pain, Spock examined Jareth’s parting words more closely. While the intent was clear, he was unsure what the Goblin King meant by Jim giving in…to what precisely would Jim concede? Certainly it wouldn’t be an acceptance of the consort position. No, Jim would never agree to that. Part of Spock refused to believe his Captain would give in to the Goblin King at all, but he knew such a belief was foolish. Every creature in the known universe had a breaking point, even someone as tenacious as James T. Kirk. Spock hoped Jim would continue to resist without any unnecessary influence from him. It would be most shameful if he were to cause the Captain’s resolve to break.

Sweat had begun to drip from his scalp. While his musings had distracted at least 87.98% of his mind, the pain had continued. The goblins had continued to poke his finger tips with their spears. By this point, the four fingers of his right hand had been poked no less than twice by the stick. His arm was shaking with the pain, and his jaw ached from his efforts to keep from shouting in agony. Drops of green blood fell to the floor, each sounding overly-loud in the cavernous room.

The goblin released his hold of Spock’s arm and proceeded to walk to the opposite side of his body. He used his spear to poke the index finger of his left hand at the exact same time the goblin who had been poking his right hand did so again. The double wound was excruciating. He felt as though his arm were on fire. His convulsing continued, and became more pronounced until the chains that held him shook. Still, he refused to cry out.  
 

*          *          *

  
“He’s brave,” Jareth complimented. “I see why you respect him. Not many Vulcans could endure such immense pain.”

Jim shook with his anger. He felt as though his entire world had tilted off balance and any move he made would end disastrously. For the first time, Jim could think of no solution. Clearly, he had two options: let Spock die of the torture, or take the peach. The problem with both of the scenarios was that either way Jareth won. Somehow, he knew no clever words would save him from this choice.

“You need to decide soon, Jim,” Jareth continued as if discussing the weather. “Soon, they will begin to peel back layers of his skin. I understand this is so painful to a Vulcan that if the pain does not kill them, the psychological trauma will remain with them until they do die, far earlier than is normal.”

Heart in his throat, Jim watched as two more goblins walked into the throne room. They each immobilized one of Spock’s arms. The two with the spears put them down, and Jim sighed his relief as the pain in his First Officer’s eyes abated slightly. His relief was short lived because the goblins came back, each with a small but deadly sharp knife. Their faces were twisted into grim smiles, as though they relished their task. Jim felt sick.

“Stop this now, Jim. Take the peach. Save Spock. It is your stubbornness which is causing him such pain. You’re as guilty of this torture as I am. Only you have the power to stop this.”

Jim shook his head angrily. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stand by and watch Spock suffer, not like this, not when there was something he could do to prevent it, to stop it. At the same time, he couldn’t take the fruit; he would die before giving in to Jareth.  
 

*          *          *

  
Agony seared through Spock as he felt the delicate skin of the underside of his thumbs pulled back. Everything in his vision turned into a haze of white-hot pain; he could discern no objects, no conscious thought. His entire being was consumed by the pain. Upon seeing the sharp knives, Spock had known his fate. He simply hoped he’d served honorably in his final moments. He hoped his indiscretions while on this planet had not tainted his reputation irrevocably. Above all, he hoped Jim would remember him fondly.

He could no longer hold the pain in, and as it overtook him, a cry came forth from his lips. The power of it threw his head back and shook the foundation of the castle. This was the last sound he would emit, and he would die with the shame of knowing he’d failed to comport himself in a manner befitting the office to which he’d been assigned.

As blessed unconsciousness neared, he felt the scream die out, as he had nothing left to pour into it. In the moments before he gave into the blackness, he thought of his Captain.

“Forgive me, Jim.”  
 

*          *          *

  
A blood-curdling scream accosted Jim’s ears. He saw Spock’s entire body bow with its the force. He’d seen the building pain in his eyes, he’d seen the restraint Spock had exerted to prevent a scream. He understood the depth of the pain because it was echoed in his very soul. The blood, which earlier had simply been slowly dripping to the ground, now streamed continuously from Spock’s thumbs. The goblins had peeled back the top layer of skin on each thumb, from the tip to where the thumb met back up with the palm of his hand. The cry continued; it reverberated around Jim; it tore at the fabric of his mind until all he knew was Spock’s terror, Spock’s pain. He would die before he gave into Jareth. He would not allow Spock to die to spite Jareth.

He turned to Jareth. “If I take the peach, you’ll end this?”

“Yes.”

“Will you fix him?”

“Fix him?”

“The psychological damage, the physical damage…heal him.”

“I will ensure his life expectancy is not affected by this, yes.”

Jim glared. Life expectancy was not the same, but he knew it was as much as bargaining would get him. He glanced once more at Spock. The cries had ended, but he hung limp, lifeless in the chains…his head was bowed to his chest and the blue of his uniform was a shade darker due to the amount of sweat that had poured out of his body.

“Checkmate,” Jim told Jareth.

“Indeed.”

Trembling, Jim took the fruit from Jareth’s hand.

“One bite, Jim…that’s all it takes.”

Unable to look at Spock, Jim brought the peach to his lips.

 

 **Part 11**

  


  


"I'm sorry, Spock," Jim whispered as he took the peach from Jareth.

The tears he hadn’t noticed mixed with the juice from the peach and the combined liquid dribbled down his chin. The peach was sweet, too sweet. Almost like a sugared peach should taste. As he expected, he felt funny. The world around him began to blur before it tilted, then it simply faded from his vision. Jim felt himself falling, and feared to open his eyes, afraid of the continuing horrors of the planet. After an indiscernible period of time, he no longer felt the weightlessness of falling. He did hear raucous laughter combined with the dulcet sounds of concert music. Blinking against the harshness of the bright light of the room, Jim opened his eyes.

"Wow."

All around him were people in grand dresses and suits. Most wore Carnival masks, but some had their masks hanging limply from their hands. They were all merrily dancing around a giant ballroom. The ceilings of the room vaulted as if desiring to touch the sky. All around, white gossamer fabric adorned walls, pillars, chandeliers. The whole room was illuminated by soft candlelight which came from various multi-tiered candelabras scattered around the edges of the room. An enormous chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, it appeared to sparkle in the flickering candlelight. The overall effect gave Jim the impression of being transported back through time.

Several people offered him their hand, clearly wanting him to dance with them. He declined. There was someone he was looking for, someone he needed to see. Fortunately, he was taller than most of the guests, and was able to survey the room easily. The couples continued to spin and laugh around him. There, on the far side of the room, nearly concealed from sight by the shadows of the two pillars he stood between…Spock. Jim felt a surge of pure, undiluted joy sweep through his system. The very Vulcan he’d been searching for stood mere feet from him. With more haste than grace, Jim made his way to where Spock stood. The smile which seemed eager to overtake his entire face faded as he noted the scowl etched into Spock’s face. This was more than his normal impassive stoicism, this was serious; this _indifference_ was directed at Jim.

“Spock!”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Captain.”

His heart sank at the formality of the address. He’d hoped they were beyond such pointless protocol. For a moment, he faltered. He’d hoped Spock would be pleased to see him.

“Is there something you required?”

“Require? Spock, what’s the matter with you?”

“I assure you, Captain, I am quite well.”

“The hell you are. You’re mad at me.”

Spock raised an eyebrow once more.

“Care to fill me in?”

“I have no desire to discuss the matter at this time. We are at a party, a place not conducive to such conversations.”

“Why _are_ we at a party?”

Spock looked at him quizzically. “I do not understand your query, Captain.”

“What are we doing at a party, Spock? Doesn’t it feel like we were somewhere else? Like we were doing something important?”

Spock thought over the Captain’s words. It did seem odd that the pair would be at a party, unless it was some sort of formal Starfleet affair. For a moment he wondered why he was displeased with the Captain. Normally, Spock was not prone to feeling emotions, but Jim stirred something in him. What pursuit could they have been following that would be more important than the party? Spock paused his thoughts…Starfleet… _Enterprise_ …Jim. Spock looked down at his Captain, the earnest look in his eyes, as if Spock could decipher the answer to every question in the universe. One thought kept returning to the forefront of his mind: _Enterprise_. In a rush, it all returned to him. The memories of the planet on which they were held prisoner, the pain of the torture, the betrayal…

“Jim,” Spock ‘s voice barely above a whisper.

Jim looked up, eyes wide, curious.

“Why, Jim? Why did you let him defeat you?”

At first, Jim didn’t understand the question. Let who defeat him? Then realization struck him like lightening. _Jareth._ He’d eaten the peach. Spock had been tortured in order to get him to eat the peach. Jareth had won; Jim had allowed it.

“Spock,” Jim began, his voice equally soft, “I couldn’t let him destroy you. Not if I could help it.”

“You knew he was  - ”

“Yes, I could see it. I could hear it. Hell, I could _feel_ it. He told me I could stop it. I could stop it by taking the damn peach. Spock, I had to make it stop. I couldn’t – I wouldn’t – I –” Jim’s voice broke.

Unsure of what to say, Spock remained silent. He had suspected Jareth had some nefarious reason for not allowing Spock to see Jim’s progress. Now he knew to what Jim had said yes. To save him.

“You should not have made such a sacrifice for me. Such a move was illogical. You had no way of knowing what the result of eating the fruit would be, and without any thought to the consequences, you took it.”

“I had to, Spock. I had no choice. Jareth called my bluff.”

Spock raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the desire of my heart,” Jim uttered, his voice tainted by bitterness. He knew Spock wouldn’t immediately return his feelings, but he was not prepared for such coldness.

“It was not a logical decision.”

Jim smiled. “Probably not, but it was the decision I made. I know you think less of me for it, but I had to…I couldn’t allow him to torture you like that…not when I had a chance of stopping it. Don’t you understand?”

“But you are the Captain. Your survival is more important than my own.”

“According to whom? You don’t understand, do you, Spock? You’re the desire of my heart…how could I allow you to suffer?”

“As First Officer, it is my responsibility to ensure your well-being.”

“And as the Captain, it’s my duty to see to yours.”

Spock could not argue his logic, however much he wanted to, and merely inclined his head. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull Jim into his arms and simply hold him until they passed of old age. He refrained, because as satisfying as that would be, he did not trust their current environment and one of them needed to remain clear-headed enough to view the situation logically.

“Are you still angry with me?”

“Anger is an emotion of no consequence. It serves no purpose; it is illogical.”

“And are you still angry with me?”

“I find it would be unjust to fault you for saving my life.”

“Okay.”

“Jim, how am I here? What is this place?”

“I have an idea about that, but you’re not going to like it.”

“I fail to see how my emotional response to your hypothesis is of any importance to our current state.”

“God, I’ve missed you.”

“Your theory?” Spock pointedly ignored the way his heart jumped at Jim’s admission.

“I think this is a dream. I think I’m dreaming.”

“You are correct, Captain. I fail to see any evidence to lead to such a conclusion.”

“We are on a planet of myth and magic, and you fail to see any evidence? Come on, Spock, this is Jareth…he clearly doesn’t want to kill me, so it wouldn’t make sense for the peach to poison me. I think it was meant to make me sleep. Even if I am sleeping, the clock continues to count down…forcing me to miss the deadline even if I make it to the Goblin King’s castle.”

“While it makes sense for him to want you alive, thus allowing the _possibility_ of this being a dream, it does not make sense for me to appear here. Dreams are manifestations of your subconscious. We are clearly corporal, and therefore cannot be in a dream.”

“Did you miss the bit about magic, Spock? What if dreams manifest themselves differently on this planet? What if they are closer to daydreams, sleepwalking or hallucinations?”

“None of those alternatives would explain my physical presence.”

“Why are you fighting this? Did I fail you so badly by accepting the peach that you don’t even want to be near me?”

Spock had the strange desire to comfort Jim, to simply throw his arms around his Captain and murmur soothing words into his ear. He refused to give into these desires, not because he was angry with Jim, but because he feared what such a surge of emotion meant for him. It did anger him that Jim would make such a sacrifice for him. It was unnecessary…he was not as important as Jim – Jim was the Captain, he had an entire crew to see to, not simply a First Officer.

“Okay, Spock. I’ll leave,” Jim whispered, voice broken.

Spock’s arm shot out and his hand closed around Jim’s arm, halting his retreat. He didn’t want the Captain to be out of his presence. What was unexpected was the influx of warmth that swept through Spock’s system. The small part of his mind which he had partitioned off fought as never before against his barriers. There was a bright light which leaked through the cracks in his barriers; it was as though the light was searching for something, for someone.

His continued presence reassured Jim. If allowing for the Captain’s hypothesis would make Jim feel more comfortable, and not look as if he were _hurt_ , then Spock would indulge the Captain in this.When he made no move to either leave, or ask the Captain to leave, Jim’s anxiety faded; consequently, Spock felt something deep inside himself quiet.

“Fascinating.”

Jim waited for Spock to either explain himself, or release his arm. He didn’t want to move and dislodge Spock’s hand, it was warm where it griped his upper arm and he was not eager lose the contact. As he continued to look at Spock, he felt the hand on his arm loosen slightly, as Spock’s thumb began to move back and forth against his skin absently. Jim choked back a moan and forced his eyes to not roll shut.

“I accept your hypothesis, Jim.”

“Wha- you accept - ?”

“Yes, Jim.”

“Why?”

“Because it pleases you.”

“So, you believe you’re here with me?”

“What I believe is irrelevant. I have accepted your hypothesis and will remain until you ask me to leave.”

Jim smiled softly. “Oh Spock, I don’t think you realize how you being here, really here is affecting me.”

“Indeed I do, Captain. Your heart rate has increased, the palms of yours hands are sweating, and the pupils of your eyes have dilated.”

“And, in your opinion, what would cause such anatomical changes?”

Even without the husky edge to Jim’s voice, Spock knew what was causing such changes. The light continued to pound against the barriers he’d erected; it seemed as though Jim’s admissions had encouraged that part of his brain to struggle even more. He could not release the dam though; not until they were far away from this place. Those barriers had been placed there to protect him from an incomprehensible loss. Without knowing the ultimate result of releasing the hold, he would need to focus more energy on repairing the barriers.

“Spock?”

Spock realized he’d remained silent for longer than socially acceptable in such situations.

“You’re not with me, here, now…are you?” Jim asked.

“I am distracted by my own thoughts, Captain. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Jim snorted. Inconvenience. Of course. He needed to do something…anything to make Spock really believe they were both here, together. He was inches away from the desire of his heart, but the distance had never felt longer. Watching his First Officer closely was a skill Jim had honed over the past few months, and he’d observed the manner in which Spock displayed emotions. When Spock had held him back, kept him from moving away, he had acted without conscious thought; Jim knew this because of the ever so slight way his brows drew together. This small, seemingly insignificant act gave Jim the foolish idea he currently had in his head.

Before he could think better of it, Jim turned himself towards Spock and pressed their lips together. In that instant, Jim felt his entire world shift. Some people say they saw stars, or they felt weightless…Jim would have agreed, and added that it was unlike anything he’d ever felt in his entire existence. When Spock returned the kiss with a slight, almost hesitant pressure of his own, Jim felt as though he were _home_. For a brief moment, it didn’t matter that they were stuck on a planet where they were both likely to die, or that Jareth was somehow behind all of this…the only thing that mattered was Jim and Spock and the fusing of their lips.

The moment ended with such a painful separation, that Jim had to remind himself to breathe through the pain. His brief respite, his moment of ecstasy was gone. He knew when he opened his eyes, Spock would no longer be in front of him. He knew the dream was over and the bitter aftertaste of the too sweet fruit he now tasted in his mouth beckoned the nightmare.

“Was any of it real?” Jim asked, without opening his eyes.

He could feel the weight of Jareth’s gaze through his closed eyelids.

“Yes, Jim,” Jareth admitted, a bit reluctantly. “It was real. You are such a clever boy. I didn’t take into account your overwhelming need for him. I fear I allowed my arrogance to cloud my judgment in this instance. I won’t make the mistake again.”

Jim opened his eyes. Jareth stood before him in the now empty ballroom.

“How?”

“It is quite simple. You sought him out, desperately. At the expense and exclusion of everything else you simply sought Spock. As you told him, it was your dream; dreams do manifest themselves more literally here than they do on other planets. I’m afraid it was all very real.”

“You sound upset by my dreams, Jareth.”

“Only for you, dear boy. Only for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“It will make the rest of this much more difficult for you. Have you figured out what the fruit does, Jim?”

Jim analyzed the events after eating the peach. His first thought was it induced hallucinations, but he dismissed that thought because it wasn’t enough for Jareth. The peach’s poison would have a purpose. A goal, and Jareth’s ultimate goal was to –

“It makes me forget things you don’t want me to remember. When I first showed up in this room, I couldn’t remember why Spock and I were here; I didn’t remember the mission.”

“And what do you remember now, Jim?”

Jim shook his head, blinked several times then looked back up at Jareth. “I still need a First Officer for the _Enterprise_.”

 **Part 12**

  


  


Slowly, Jim opened his eyes. The room came into focus and he blinked in disbelief - he was in his cabin on the _Enterprise._ He mentally shook himself; of course he was back aboard his ship. Their recent away mission had taken much longer than anticipated. His shock was simply due to the time lapse.Something felt different about being back onboard, but the feeling was fuzzy, leading Jim to dismiss it, deciding it was probably just the remnants of his bizarre dream. He would have to remember to tell the Admiral about it; his superior would find it amusing. When his PADD buzzed he was forced to push aside the thoughts of the dream completely; he had a ship to Captain.

"Kirk here," he answered the buzzing device.

"Jim, it's Bones...get your ass down to medical. You are overdue for your post-mission physical."

"Bones, I'm fine. Nothing nasty got me on that planet. I need to get to the bridge for my shift. You stabbing me with the hypo will have to wait."

"Damn it, Jim. I’m the one who woke your lazy ass up. Alpha shift doesn't start for another two hours. Get down here before I remove you from command!"

"Bones, the Admiral hasn't found me a First Officer yet. You can't just revoke my command."

"Medically unfit for duty says otherwise.  Quit acting like an infant and get down here."

"Fine. Kirk out,"

Grumbling to himself about his over-enthusiastic CMO, Jim rolled from bed and began getting ready for the day. He glanced at the door which led to the First Officer’s quarters, and felt a strange longing. Confused, he moved closer to the door, the feeling intensifying with each step. He placed his hand against the door; he expected to feel something, something to explain these feelings, the disquiet...he felt nothing. With a shake of his head, he moved away from the door, resolving to press the Admiral to approve one of candidates he’d suggested for First Officer soon.

As Jim walked to the medical bay, he decided to do something to change his melancholy mood. Luckily for him, Bones was always available to make him feel better, even if Bones didn’t know it. There was one thing he knew that would make Bones’ blood boil, and give Jim a good laugh.

"Bones," Jim called as he entered the medical bay.

"You’re cheery – what did you do?"

"You wound me. I did nothing. I have good news for you though."

"Up on the table," Bones ordered.

"We’re going to have a visitor tomorrow."

"Really?" Bones asked, clearly not paying attention to Jim, his focus on the tricorder he was waving in front of Jim's face.

"A very important visitor."

"Who would visit us out here?" Bones asked as he moved the tricorder away.

"The Admiral."

"Damn it!"

Bones slammed the hypo into the side of Jim's neck with a bit more force than was necessary.

"Ow!"

"Don't be such an infant."

"Don't hypo me like I'm the Admiral. I don't understand why you don't like him."

Bones glared at Jim, waiting until the younger man cringed a bit. "Not all of us have a – "

"Don't, Bones," Jim interrupted, his voice low with warning.

"Nothing wrong with you for once. Get outta my sick bay, Captain."

Jim shook his head. He hated when Bones was mad at him, but he was in no mood for another one of his lectures about the Admiral. He was a grown man and while he appreciated having Bones around to look after him, he had a father. He had no need for a second. With some time before Alpha Shift, Jim returned to his room and dialed a familiar number.

"Jim," his father greeted.

"Hi, Dad."

"What's wrong?"

Jim smiled at that. Of course his dad would know something was bothering him. He was unable to hide anything from him.

"Bones is mad at me again. I guess I egged him on a little, okay, a lot, but I think he overreacted just a bit."

"Tell me everything."

With a sigh, Jim relaxed into his chair.

"I had a physical today, and I was irritated that he woke me up for it. I hate those damn hypos he loves using on me. I guess I wanted to get back at him a bit for that, and I might have just dropped it on him that the Admiral was coming for a visit."

"You know how Leonard feels about the Admiral, Jim. He was going to take the news badly no matter when you told him. Give him some time to cool off. He never stays mad at you for long."

"He might this time," Jim admitted softly.

"What makes you think that? He's your best friend."

"He called me 'Captain'. He never calls me Captain. Not ever."

"Give him time, Jim. Leave him be until the Admiral is gone. He avoids you anytime the Admiral is on the ship, right?"

"Yeah, he hides down in the med bay. I don't think he even comes to the Officer's Mess."

"See? This is normal behavior for him. I wouldn't worry about it."

"Thanks, dad."

"Anytime, Jim."

"Tell mom I love her for me? I have to get to the bridge."

"I will. Be safe."

"Bye."

Jim made his way to the bridge, feeling much better as he always did after talking to his father. Jim cherished his time with his dad, never taking those times for granted. There was this persistent feeling that he wouldn't have those moments forever, like the ones he had now were stolen. He spent his entire shift fighting his dark thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Several times he found himself spinning his chair around to face the science station, but the person sitting there was _wrong_. Whatever it was he’d intended to say was meant to be said to the ship’s First Officer, which was insane because the ship had been without a First Officer since they’d begun their fiver year mission nearly six months ago. Uncommonly relieved when his shift was over, Jim made his way wearily to his cabin. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, a smile on his lips and his last thought of the Admiral's visit.

Jim shifted in his sleep and his eyes shot wide open as he bumped against something, or rather someone, in his bed. An arm tightened slightly where it rested at his waist, and the low chuckle coming from the warm body danced up his spine.

"You're early," Jim mumbled as he relaxed back into the familiar embrace.

"Admiral's privilege."

Jim could feel the smile against his neck.

"I knew you needed me."

"How do you do that?"

"Magic."

Jim laughed. His laugh faded into a moan as he felt velvet soft lips move against the sensitive skin of his neck. The arms around him moved lower; when they reached the bottom hem of his shirt, they moved under the material to gently caress the skin near his bellybutton. When he did these things to Jim, Jim believed in magic. The hands continued to move around his chest, as if mapping the expanse of his skin. The lips at his neck moved around to his ear and nipped teasingly at his earlobe. Jim felt the first stirrings of his arousal as the fingers continued to write their magic all over his skin. The movements were languid, as if the pair had eternity to be as they were.

"Not everyone has an Admiral in their bed," Jim whispered. It hurt him to say the words Bones had begun earlier, but it was too late to take them back.

"I should hope not."

"No, Admiral. That’s what members of the crew are saying. I don't like anyone thinking I’m Captain simply because of - “ Jim broke off, unable to finish.

"Jim. You were Captain before our relationship began."

"I don't think a week counts to anyone, Admiral."

"Why are you being so formal and distant? It distresses me when you get like this. Let me help you."

"I'm sorry, Jareth," Jim whispered. "Bones and I had a fight."

"About me."

"He doesn't like you. I think he believes - "

"What do you believe, Jim?"

Jim turned to face him. He could read the concern in Jareth's eyes, but couldn't think of a way to ease it. "I think that if Bones sees something...amiss, enough to say something to me, then maybe other people, important people, will begin to ask questions."

Jareth combed his fingers through Jim's hair. "What questions, dear boy?"

Jim groaned. Jareth only called him that when he felt he was being foolish, but didn't want to make him feel worse. Normally, it didn't bother him, but right now it did. Jareth might be secure enough in his career to be able to survive a scandal, but he wasn't. For someone who professed to care about him, Jareth treated his career lightly.

"Questions like why a certain Admiral spends an inordinate amount of time on a certain ship."

"Jim...no one is going to ask any questions, and if they do," Jareth added, knowing Jim's objection, "I will deal with them."

Jim nodded mutely. He still had his reservations, but tonight they would fall on deaf ears. Every time they had this conversation it ended this way. He wondered why Bones was so against his relationship....it wasn't as though Jim had never had dangerous liaisons before; many of his dalliances at the academy could have had him expelled, but Bones had endured them with disgruntled amusement. He wondered what it was about Jareth that upset his best friend so much.

"You are far away from me, Jim. What must I do to regain your attention?"

With a soft smile, Jim reached up and gently traced the side of Jareth's face. He could lose himself in the depths of those eyes. The way they pulled him in, held him tenderly, made Jim feel safe and secure. In those eyes, Jim could forget the odd moments of disquiet he felt. Maybe it was good his Admiral made many trips to the _Enterprise_...to keep Jim’s demons at bay.

"There, my love," Jareth whispered. "How can I comfort you, hm?"

Jim stretched up and gently fused his lips to Jareth's. When Jareth pulled him closer, Jim sighed into his mouth. It was this feeling, this embrace Jim needed. Jim moved his hands around to thread through Jareth's hair. Jareth pulled away from Jim's lips and placed gentle kisses along the side of his face until his lips reached the shell of Jim's ear.

"I understand, love. I’ll take care of you tonight."

Jim shivered with anticipation. The warm lips abandoned his ear to focus on the tender skin covering his collarbone. Gently, he nibbled on the skin there, making Jim surge closer to Jareth. Jareth’s lips trailed back up to the shell of Jim’s ear.

“Turn around,” Jareth whispered.

Jim turned his back to Jareth, once more being spooned by his Admiral. He loved the feel of Jareth’s’ warm body aligned with his own, his dick pressed into the crease of Jim’s ass. A low hiss escaped Jim’s lips when he felt Jareth tweak his nipple with his fingers. The fabric of his shirt was bunched up near his armpits in an uncomfortable way, but Jareth was too focused on his exposed skin to notice. Jim wiggled a bit, in an attempt to move the shirt up a bit more, but ended up grinding his ass back against Jareth’s increasing arousal.

Jareth growled and bit at Jim’s collarbone, causing him to gasp; he’d have teeth marks in the morning.

“Shirt,” Jim managed.

Jareth chuckled around the patch of skin he was laving with his tongue, soothing the sting of his bite. With a little repositioning, Jareth removed Jim’s shirt. With Jareth looming above him, his eyes fully dilated, Jim felt his own dick twitch as the Admiral’s gaze scorched a path around his torso. Like a starved man, Jareth attacked the expanse of his chest. He felt the soft tongue savor the skin right above his hip bone, Jareth’s powerful hand keeping Jim’s hips from surging up, seeking more friction.

Jim fisted his hand in Jareth’s hair, needing something to anchor him to reality as Jareth worked his magic on his skin. This was exactly what he needed, this escape from his troubling thoughts. When Jareth was with him, touching him, nothing else in the world mattered. Jim tugged on Jareth’s hair, bringing the man crawling back up Jim’s body. A tender smile on his face, Jim fused their mouths together. He felt no need to rush as their lips brushed lightly against each other. He loved the silky quality of Jareth’s lips. When Jareth’s tongue traced the crease of Jim’s mouth, he languidly opened it, allowing Jareth’s tongue to explore inside. Their tongues rubbed against each other gently as their bodies rocked together in the same slow rhythm.

Jareth moved his hand down to the skin above Jim’s pants. He smiled into the kiss when he felt Jim jerk in anticipation. He traced a finger teasingly along the waist of the pants, delighting in the goose bumps left in the wake of his touch. He broke his lips away from Jim’s only to latch them onto the skin of his neck. There was one place right below his ear which Jareth delighted in exploiting. He sucked the skin into his mouth, and felt Jim’s tremors.

With Jareth behind him once more, Jim had nothing to hold onto as he became lost in the sensation. Jareth’s ever busy hands (Jim secretly thought he had more than two) had once more found the skin above his pants. The teasing feel of those hands so close and yet so far away from where he wanted them made Jim whimper in need. It was begging, and perhaps a little pathetic, but he _wanted_ it. Damn if he didn’t _need_ it.

Knowing the need thrumming through Jim, Jareth tugged his pants down enough to release his semi-hard dick. The sight of it made Jareth’s mouth water. He wanted nothing more than to bring Jim the most exquisite pleasure the man had ever felt. He wanted to make his mind blank with the pleasure of his touch.

“Do you remember the first time you had an Admiral in your bed, Jim?” Jareth whispered across the skin of his neck.

Jim groaned from the combined pleasure of Jareth’s words and the knowledge that his hand was hovering very close to Jim’s rapidly hardening dick.

Jareth squeezed Jim gently, earning a moan. “Do you?”

“Hhghmf,” Jim mumbled. It was unfair to expect a coherent response when Jareth had his hand on his dick.

“You were upset that night, too. I made it better for you, didn’t I, Jim? I filled you so full of me that you forgot your troubles.”

Jim was panting now. Not only were Jareth’s words drawing wicked images in his head, but his hand had finally begun to stroke Jim, using his own precum as lubricant. He felt Jareth slide down his body, and couldn’t repress the shiver that wracked him. His ass clenched in anticipation. He knew what was coming. He remembered well that first night in this room.

Jareth increased the pressure of his hand as he slid it up and down Jim’s dick at a steady pace. As he moved down Jim’s back, he left wet kisses along his spine. When he reached the dimples above his ass, Jareth feasted on the flesh. He sucked the skin into his mouth, feeling Jim arch above him. He moved his hand back up Jim’s dick and captured more of Jim’s precum with his thumb before rubbing small circles around the tip. He gave Jim two long, hard pulls  before removing his hands entirely.

At the loss, Jim whimpered, which quickly changed into a moan as he felt Jareth’s teeth graze his ass. Jareth pushed him onto his stomach; Jim delighted in the feel of the sheets, coarse against the sensitive skin of his dick. He pushed himself into the mattress, seeking the friction Jareth had denied him. A sharp sting on his ass from Jareth’s’ teeth told him he should lay still. With great effort, he stilled his hips and was rewarded by a tongue across his puckered hole. Jim wasn’t sure it was a fair reward as he had to dig his fingers into the palm of his hand to keep from jerking his hips.

Jareth spread Jim’s ass cheeks, admiring the view of his perfect ass and puckered hole, which contracted under his gaze. Jareth smiled. He licked around the globes of Jim’s ass, savoring the salty taste of his skin before moving to a greater prize. He took a tentative sweep of his tongue across Jim’s hole, delighting in the way Jim struggled to remain still. With renewed purpose, Jareth moved his tongue in and out of Jim’s hole, savoring the feel of the man trembling beneath him. Reveling in the small sounds escaping the man beneath him.

Jim gritted his teeth against the onslaught of sensation. Each time Jareth drove his tongue into his ass, his hips surged against the mattress, giving him blissful friction, but it was never enough. Sweat coated his body as Jareth continued his ministrations. He was so hard, precum dripped from the tip of his dick; he could feel the wetness as it seeped into the sheets against his stomach.

“Please,” Jim begged, needing release more than he needed oxygen.

Jareth placed one last kiss on Jim’s hole before rolling the man onto his back. With a smile, he noted the debauched look Jim bore, the glazed, sightless eyes that were hidden behind lowered lashes, his breathing heavy with effort. Glorious. Unable to resist, Jareth thrust his tongue into Jim’s half-open mouth. The kiss was sloppy and wet, but held the desperation they both felt. Their tongues danced together, Jareth teasing, Jim trying to dominate…to get his release. Jareth pulled away with a wet noise and trailed kisses down Jim’s torso.

Eyes heavy, Jim watched Jareth work down his body. The first sweep of Jareth’s tongue along the underside of his dick nearly sent Jim over the edge. His entire body surged up at the contact. Once again, Jareth held his hips down with one powerful hand. Jim’s eyes rolled back in his head as the sensations crashed over him.

Knowing Jim was close, Jareth wasted no more time teasing. He took him all the way down his throat and hollowed his cheeks. When Jim began to buck uncontrollably, Jareth hummed around his dick.

“Fuck  - so fucking close- gah.”

Jareth moved his mouth quickly, making sure his tongue swept along the underside of Jim’s dick. With it all the way inside his mouth, Jareth reached under Jim and gently pushed the tip of his finger into Jim’s ass.

That slight penetration sent Jim skyrocketing over the edge. He felt his hot seed shoot down Jareth’s throat.

Jareth moved back up Jim’s body, a content and self-satisfied smile on his face.

“That – “ Jim began, “was nothing like the first night I had you in my bed.”

Jareth laughed softly, enjoying the afterglow on Jim’s face. He moved behind him once more, wrapping Jim protectively in his arms.

Jim felt Jareth’s erection against his ass, and moved his hand around to reach for Jareth’s dick to help alleviate his need, return the favor. Instead, Jareth removed his hand and kissed Jim softly right behind his ear.

“Go to sleep, Jim.”

Cocooned in the afterglow of his orgasm and the warmth of Jareth’s body, Jim was asleep in minutes.

Assured he was asleep, Jareth moved carefully out of the bed. He had important things to see to before Jim woke up. He glanced back at Jim’s face, soft in sleep, before leaving the Captain’s quarters.

Bones looked up when he heard the medical bay door open, hoping it was Jim. He wanted to apologize to his infantile best friend. Jim was old enough to make his own choices when it came to relationships, even if they were foolhardy. Unfortunately, the person standing in his doorway was not Jim.

"Doctor, a word?"

"You came all the way down here, Admiral. Can't keep you from talking."

"Your friendship is important to Jim, and is the only reason you are still employed by Starfleet.”

Bones stiffened.

“It would distress Jim greatly if I were to remove you from his ship, so I have refrained from doing so. In the future, you will keep your opinion about our relationship to yourself. If any of your comments upset Jim again, not even your friendship will save your career."

Bones glared at the Admiral with unmasked hatred.

Jareth smirked and opened the sickbay door.

"And Doctor," Jareth threw over his shoulder, "I would keep this conversation between the two of us."

”Pointy-eared bastard.”  
 

 **Part 13**

  


The space behind Jim was empty. Even though he’d expected it, he couldn’t help the loneliness that encompassed him. Without conscious thought, Jim’s eyes wandered to the bathroom door which separated his quarters from those of the First Officer. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone should already be there, that someone was already filling that post. He dismissed those thoughts and attributed them to waking up alone. His PADD was blinking at him impatiently. With a groan, Jim swung his legs out of bed, rubbed his face and reached for it.

“Jim, dear boy, appearances. I will meet you at the teleport pad. Protocol, after all – wouldn’t want Bones to suspect anything more, now would we?” – Jareth

For as much as he appreciated Jareth taking care of him last night, he had known something like this would follow. This was yet another way Jareth made Jim feel like nothing more than a foolish child. It bothered him that his superior officer and – whatever else they were to each other - would have such a lack of empathy for his position. He had hoped Jareth would understand his concerns about his career, but instead it appeared that Jareth just wanted to make light of it…to indulge Jim’s mercurial moods (as Jareth had told him on numerous occasions). He always replied snidely with his apologies for being human. Relationships were a challenge, but there were times when Jim wondered if this was really what he wanted. His eyes drifted to the closed bathroom door separating his room from that of the First Officer. The strange longing he felt intensified.

He went through his morning ritual quickly, his mind on other matters. He couldn’t seem to contain his tumultuous emotions. Or shake his mounting frustration with a certain Admiral’s behavior. He wondered again if Bones didn’t have reason to be suspicious of his current relationship. While he would normally have the CMO join him in the transport room, in case his services were needed, he thought it would be best to keep Bones and Jareth away from each other as much as possible. However, he found himself apprehensive about going to the room without Bones; his acute loneliness almost caused him to change his mind.  He shook himself; Scotty would be there. It was ridiculous for him to be nervous. 

“Mister Scott,” Jim greeted as he entered the transporter room.

“’Mornin’, Captain.”

“Is everything ready?”

“Right as rain, Captain. Lieutenant Uhura said we should expect the Admiral any minute now.”

Jim nodded. He stood facing the pad, his hands clasped behind his back. If anyone noticed his nervousness, they didn’t mention it.

“Captain?” Scotty asked.

“Yeah?”

“They’re ready.”

“Beam them aboard, Mister Scott.”

Scotty nodded his head, ignoring the Captain’s odd behavior. Everyone was entitled to a bit of an off day, even the Captain.

“Admiral,” Jim greeted, once the guests had appeared on the pads. He stepped forward and offered his hand to Jareth.

Jareth inclined his head, and shook Jim’s offered hand.

“Captain Kirk. It is always a pleasure to be on your ship. I’ve brought Mister Huskgin with me to have a look at your engineering sector. I understand you’ve put in a request for some improvements next time you’re due for shore leave?”

“Yes, Admiral. Mister Scott will be happy to show Mister Huskgin around, and tell him about whatever it is he wants done.”

Mister Huskgin turned to Jim. “You are unaware of the modifications your chief engineer wants to perform?”

Jim bristled at the man’s tone. “I assure you, Mister Huskgin, no one on my ship makes any changes without my knowledge and approval. As Mister Scott spends his time down in engineering, I felt it would be easiest for everyone if he were to show you what he wants done. I have my own duties on the bridge, such as a Starship to run.”

Jim turned to Scotty. “Let me know when you’ve completed your tour, Mister Scott. I will want to speak with you and Mister Huskgin about your decisions once you’re done.”

“Aye, Captain,” Scotty answered.

Without addressing anyone else, Jim left the transport room. He made it to the turbolift, and the doors had just begun to close when a slender hand inserted itself into the opening. Silently, Jim moved further back, allowing Jareth room to enter.

“Jim,” Jareth began.

“Don’t.”

“He is the one with the authority to get the changes made. I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Pleased? You brought him as an excuse for your visit. _You_ are the one who approves upgrades and modifications for ships under your command.”

“And he is a vital part of that approval process, dear boy.”

“Well, thank you, _sir_ , for taking such good care of our vessel.”

They reached the bridge before Jareth could continue their conversation, for which Jim was grateful. His dark mood continued to spiral. He needed Jareth’s visit to be over soon. He needed time to sift through his distressing thoughts. He needed a First Officer. Jim looked to the science station, again expecting someone different to be there.

“Admiral on deck!”

The entire bridge stood to attention as Jareth strode onto the bridge. With a meaningful look at Jim, Jareth looked around at the crew.

“At ease, everyone. Back to your duties.”

Immediately, the crew resumed their activities, the murmur of a working bridge replacing the silence. Jim moved to his chair, and briefly read through the reports from different sectors of his ship. He hadn’t been lying earlier. He knew everything that happened on his ship.

“Lieutenant Sulu?”

“Sir?”

“Estimated time to our destination?”

“We should be there in forty-nine hours, Captain.”

“Very good. Where is Lieutenant Uhura?”

“She is in her quarters, I believe, sir,” Sulu answered.

“And why is she in her quarters?”

“She had an extra shift leader rotation, sir,” Sulu answered, slightly confused.

Jim nodded. He turned to the Admiral. “How are the First Officer selections coming, sir?”

“They are progressing as fast as they can, I assure you, Captain.”

“Well, I hope they can progress a bit faster. I believe everyone will be relieved when they are no longer needed to cover the duties of the First Officer.”

“Of course, Captain. We want all of our Starships to run as efficiently as possible. I was unaware of the added stress the delays were taking. I will see to it that the selection is made soon.”

“Were my candidates sufficient?”

“What?”

“I gave you the résumés of several fit officers. Do you need more? Would a wider pool make the process more efficient for you?”

“No. You provided adequate candidates, Jim.”

“That’s a relief. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for adding to the crew’s duties unnecessarily.”

“You’re not. I am sure you are doing all you can to spread the duties evenly amongst the crew you do have.”

“And what are you doing to help this situation, _sir_?”

“Perhaps this conversation should be continued in private?”

“No, sir. I think this conversation should happen right here – with the crew. They are directly affected by the outcome of this conversation.”

“Jim, I will not have this discussion with you here.”

The doors to the bridge opened and Lieutenant Uhura, looking weary, entered, followed closely by Bones. They both felt the tension between the two officers facing off in the middle of the bridge. As inconspicuously as they could, they made their way to the communications station. They exchanged a glance.

Bones glanced to Chekov and gave a brief nod of thanks. The Ensign had sent him a message, telling Bones he might want to witness the events on the bridge. Looking at the tension in Jim’s body, he was glad he had come. After his lecture from the Admiral, he was frustrated to have been the one scolded about upsetting Jim.

“I want a First Officer, Jareth. What’s the hold up? If the candidates I gave you were sufficient, it should be easy enough for you to approve one of my people.”

“Why do you want a First Officer, Jim? Have you paused to consider that I delay the process for you?”

“You help me by keeping me without a full staff? For my own good?”

“Everything I do is for your own good, you ungrateful boy!”

“Enlighten me.”

Jareth moved closer to Jim, a mere inch between their noses. “Why would I place someone on your ship with the ability to usurp your power? To overshadow your authority on this vessel? Did it ever occur to you that I have such faith in your abilities that I don’t believe you truly need a First Officer? Does that not show the esteem I have for you?”

“It shows the power you wish to have over me,” Jim whispered.

“Is it never enough for you?”

“It’s not a matter of you giving me everything, Jareth. It’s a matter of you giving me what I need. The needs you consider are your own. What if what I need is someone to question my decisions? What if I need someone to help me lead? What if what I need is a real partner?”

“I fail you even there, Jim?”

Jim bowed his head and took several fortifying breaths. Maybe this conversation should have been had in private. Those members of the crew who had been unaware of his relationship with the Admiral would no longer be ignorant. Against his better judgment, he couldn’t make himself care enough to move the conversation. Somehow being around his crew gave him the strength he needed to clear the air between him and Jareth. The magic spell the man seemed to weave when they were alone lost its potency in the presence of so many people.

“Something is missing, Jareth. There is a void on this ship…and I think you know more about it than you’re leading us all to believe.”

“Don’t do this, Jim. I’ve given you everything. If you only knew how I have rearranged the world for you. I move stars for no one.”

“Everything? You’ve given me _nothing_!”

“Did you enjoy your conversation with your father yesterday, Jim? Was it nice to see his face on your PADD? Do you enjoy not feeling the ache of loss?”

Jim furrowed his brow. The questions didn’t make any sense. Of course he enjoyed talking to his dad. Everyone knew how close he and his father were; it was no secret. But, the ache of loss? He felt the ache of loss. Every time he looked at the science station, every time he glanced at thedamnbathroom door in his room. Jareth’s words aside, Jim felt incomplete. Like everything around him was just empty filler for what he really wanted in life. Like it was all just…junk.

“You don’t fill that aching void, Jareth,” Jim told him, voice surprisingly steady. “Neither does my dad.”

“I ask for so little, Jim. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.”

“Slaves don’t give orders, Jareth.”

Jareth shook his head. This was deteriorating beyond his control. He needed to make Jim see reason. Something was pulling Jim away from him.

“Will it please you if I name a First Officer for your ship, Jim? Will that be enough of a demonstration of my love and devotion to you?”

“Even in your offers of generosity you want to manipulate me. You give me a First Officer, and I am indebted to you for graciously giving me something every other Starship in the Federation has. But not me. No, not the _Enterprise_. We will all know we have First Officer because Jareth _gifted_ us with one.”

“Watch yourself, _Captain_. I am still your commanding officer. I can have you removed from this ship.”

“With no First Officer to replace me? Starfleet Command would never let that happen, Jareth.”

“No one is irreplaceable, Jim.”

“Pointy-eared hobgoblin,” Bones muttered.

Simultaneously, Jim and Jareth turned their gazes to Bones. He shrunk back under the weight of their glowers. The CMO began to twitch uncomfortably.

Jim tilted his head. “Bones, are you _shaking_?”

The shaking increased, Bones unable to meet Jim’s questioning gaze.

Jareth moved closer to Bones, jaw clenched. This was an unacceptable lapse. A mistake like this was inexcusable.

“Bones?” Jim asked, concerned.

The CMO continued to shake. Jareth held both hands out in front of him, as if to strangle the man. Jim moved closer to the two, ready to step in if Jareth followed through with his intent. Before his eyes, Bones slowly shrunk. His best friend began to transform into something…different. His once strong arms began to bubble and contort into short, stubby limbs. His face wrinkled into a sickly green mass of layered clay-like skin that appeared to have dried in the sun. The eyes became black, heavy set, and watery. Jim jumped back, away from the creature in front of him.

His eyes met Jareth’s. The Admiral simply shook his head, eyes heavy with regret. Jim, fearing he was losing his mind, prowled around the bridge. The edges of his vision blurred in and out of focus. The walls of the _Enterprise_ shifted between the solid walls familiar to him and a grotesque trash pile.

“Why Jim? Don’t you like the life I’ve built for you?” Jareth asked.

Jim shook his head, something clawing at the back of his mind. The feeling he had been unable to shake all day refused to give him peace now. Why didn’t he like it? It was perfect. He had a ship, and a crew, and an amorous Admiral…but, Bones had turned into a – a – goblin? The presence that haunted him everywhere, the continued lack of a person whom he needed above all else – that was what he disliked.

“Pointy-eared hobgoblin,” Jim whispered to himself. He glanced at what had been Bones. Then to the Admiral…

No, not the Admiral. The last of the illusion shattered like glass, the walls of the _Enterprise_ crumbled to debris. The stench of the junk pile around him assaulted his senses.

Jareth and Jim stood alone amidst the decaying piles.

“Because, Jareth. You created a world without Spock,” Jim answered softly. “No world is worth having without the desire of my heart.”

“You’ll never make it, Jim. I’ve done everything to make you believe me, to make you see how futile your attempts have been.”

A small, sad smile touched Jim’s lips. “Some children never learn.”

Jareth held Jim’s gaze for a moment before he disappeared. Jim looked around at the desolation, the piles of broken and lost dreams. He felt the weight of it. None of it mattered though, because the longing was gone. He once again felt complete. He felt Spock.

 **Part 14**

  


  


"What have you done, Spock?"

"Your query is vague. Please specify."

Jareth's nostrils flared. The Vulcan's damn calm had returned to him, which heightened Jareth's fear. He assessed the Vulcan silently. He no longer appeared concerned about his restraints, or Jim, or the labyrinth. Jareth's blood went cold.

"What did you do to Jim?"

"I have done nothing to the Captain."

"Do not lie to me, Spock."

"Lying would be illogical."

"He remembered you, Spock. I gave him everything he ever wanted, things you could never offer him...I gave to him freely, and he cried out for _you._ He had command of his ship, he had his father, he had an amorous commanding officer. I rearranged the fabric of his reality and it wasn't enough. I wonder if you understand my frustration. Tell me, Spock, have you ever tried to please your precious Captain? Have you ever found your efforts less than satisfactory? What do you do to please him? Tell me your secret."

While he had no intention of responding to any of Jareth's questions, he pondered them nevertheless. It shocked him to discover he could think of no logical reason for Jim's affection. In most respects they were incompatible. Jim was highly emotional, prone to brash decisions (more than most humans), and relied too heavily upon human instinct. He knew the Captain's reputation for promiscuity was not unfounded. He was also aware of the Captain's preference for women, but unlike Doctor McCoy, knew the Captain would not limit himself to one sex. Even if the Captain were to become monogamous, Spock felt he would be an unsuitable partner for Jim, due to his sexual inexperience.

Looking back through their time together, Spock could identify no moment which would account for their current closeness. In fact, outside their chess matches, they spent little free time with each other. He briefly wondered if Jim maintained this distance because he believed Spock and Nyota were still romantically involved. That was a logical conclusion given what Spock knew of Jim's character. Fleetingly, he wondered if the termination of his romantic relationship with Nyota was information the Captain should have received. The nuances of human friendships still escaped him. He found them difficult to follow, there was no pattern or clearly outlined protocol. It seemed as though certain factors affected the depth of the bond more than others. For some it was a length of time, with longer acquaintances equaling deeper friendships; while for others, one shared experience superseded time and created a deep bond.

It was possible their time on this planet would count as a shared experience. He glanced down at his hands, the memory of the pain lingering in his mind. Certainly, they both had experienced scarring events, which he concluded had an 89.785% chance of leading to a human’s idea of a deep friendship. If he continued to ignore presence pressing against his mental barriers, it was due to the logical conclusion that to remove the carefully erected barriers would be a mistake, not due to the emotional fear of rejection - no, he was Vulcan. His decision was logical, not emotional.  
 

*          *          *

  
“Captain Kirk!” Sir Didymus called. “We have found you at last!”

“Friend back,” Ludo added.

Jim looked around, a bit disoriented. “Where are we?”

“Why look just there,” Sir Didymus pointed beyond them, “the gates to the Goblin City lie before you.”

Expecting to feel relieved, Jim wondered at the trepidation he felt seeping into his system. The goal was within his sight, mere feet from him, but he wasn’t happy about it. It gave him no pleasure. For a moment, he simply stood there stupidly. He wanted to get Spock and get back to the _Enterprise_. He wanted to get off this planet. So, why wasn’t he moving – running into the Goblin City? James T. Kirk was no coward. That didn’t stop him from fearing another encounter with Jareth. Not that such an encounter could be avoided. He needed to get to Spock – get back to the _Enterprise_ (the real _Enterprise_ ). Not knowing how much time remained, he knew he had no time to over-analyze his feelings on the situation. Spock would be proud of that logical decision.

Jim climbed down out of the trash heap. The Goblin City loomed before his vision, causing everything else to fade. The image before him expanded and contracted; he felt his heat beat faster, hammer against his ribcage. Beneath him, the ground tilted. Jim lost his footing and landed on his back, blinking stupidly up at the red-stained black sky.  Not two feet closer to the city and Jareth had already beaten him. Jim knew he had fallen due to his own stupidity, his own insecurities. Jareth had been right; Jareth had won.

“’Bout time you figured it out,” Hoggle said.

Jim blinked up at Hoggle.

“Jareth’s never had no one beat his labyrinth, and it sure wasn’t going to be you,” Hoggle continued.

Jim groaned. He hardly needed the _good_ coward to remind him of his failure.

“Captain Kirk,” Sir Didymus called from somewhere near Jim’s feet, “this creature is incorrect.”

Jim and Hoggle both turned disbelieving eyes toward him.

“You have beaten the labyrinth, sir. You are in its heart; you have reached the Goblin City. The gate is just there.”

With his eyes, Jim followed Sir Didymus’ outstretched arm. The gate stood mere feet from where Jim lay on his back, wallowing. He had no reason to wallow. Sir Didymus was correct; he’d beaten Jareth’s labyrinth. He’d reached the Goblin City. He’d make it to Spock in time.

“Alright, boys,” Jim announced, “we should hurry. No telling how much time we’ve got left. Knowing Jareth – ” Jim paused, shook his head. “No, this won’t be easy at all.”

The group, trailing behind Jim, descended to the gate of the Goblin City. Jim assessed the gate; one guard slumped against the wall, asleep. The door was made of wood, but he guessed would be reinforced on the inside, at least with a cross bar. A low stone wall surrounded the city. Jim wondered if it would be worth it to attempt a quiet sneak into the city. Jareth knew he was coming; Jareth knew how close to the gate he was. No, now was not the time for subtle.

“Hey, you!” Jim poked the guard with his foot. “Open the gate. Wake up!”

The guard moved restlessly, fighting consciousness.

Impatient, Jim grabbed the guard’s shoulders and shook him. The sound of the helmet knocking against the wall and the shoulder guards set Jim’s teeth on edge, but he merely shook the guard harder.

“Hey, stop that!” the guard squeaked. 

Jim released the guard.

“Open the gate.”

“I can’t open the gate.”

“Open the gate.”

“I can’t open the gate.”

Jim moved to grab the creature again. Defensively, the guard held his arms up in front of him.

“No more shakin’,” the guard squealed. “I can’t open the gate. Don’t have a key.”

Jim moved back a step, deflated. He shook his head. Only Jareth would post a guard at the gate and not give him a key. He turned to Ludo.

“Can you open the gate?”

Ludo moved to the gate, lifted one giant, orange leg and kicked it open. The wall on either side of the gate vibrated with the force of the kick. Wooden splinters flew inward, scattering uselessly to the ground.

Jim smirked. Subtle.

“Know what you’re doin’?” Hoggle asked. “Won’t be catchin’ him off-guard. Not now.”

Jim glowered down at Hoggle. “I don’t intend to catch him unaware, Hoggle. Jareth knows I’m coming. Now, I want him to _feel_ me coming.”

Hoggle muttered about foolish humans under his breath as he moved off to the side. Jim squared his shoulders and strode into the city. He made it about five feet into the city before another set of doors began to close. A wall within the wall. Hands on hips, Jim looked at this second set of doors. They were larger than the gate doors, and not wood. In fact, as they came into better view, Jim moved back a step. The doors were two halves of a giant metal goblin. At least ten feet tall, the machine towered over Jim. It held a double-headed axe, the blades of which were as big as Jim. With a wry smile, Jim tipped his head to Jareth. Of all the things Jim had expected to find inside the Goblin City, this _thing_ in front of him was not one of them.

As the axe came down in a giant arc, Jim jumped out of the way. Fortunately, he was small enough he could easily maneuver around the large, awkward swings. He ducked and rolled to avoid the deadly end of the axe as he formulated a plan. Without any weapons, Jim was struggling to find a plausible solution. Sir Didymus continued to weave in and out of the machine’s way, stabbing uselessly at the metal feet. Ludo cowered in the far corner, hoping to remain unnoticed. His plan appeared to be working. The machine seemed intent upon removing Jim’s head from his body; the others went ignored.  

“Hoggle!” Jim hollered, not wanting to lose sight of the axe blade.

“What?”

“Know anything about this thing?”

“It’s bigger ’n us.”

“Anything useful?”

“Got a goblin inside, driving.”

A slow smile spread across Jim’s face. Finally, something he could work with; something good. A plan formulated in his mind. It was probably a bad plan, in fact, he knew Spock would disapprove of his plan, but he knew it would work. Just like his plan with Nero, he just _knew_. Plus, he didn’t have anything else, and no time to come up with a better idea.

“Distract him,” Jim commanded Hoggle.

“Me? I ain’t gonna go anywhere near it.”

“If you would allow me, Captain Kirk, I would be most pleased to offer my assistance,” Sir Didymus told Jim.

“Very good.”

With that, Jim slipped between the giant machine’s legs and moved swiftly along the wall. With his hands, he felt around for a good place to climb. Once he found a suitable place, Jim scaled the wall as fast as he could manage. From the top, Jim watched Sir Didymus chase his “steed”, Ambrosius, around the machine’s legs. Confused, the machine ambled in a rough circle.

Jim moved across the top of the wall, placing himself near the machine’s head. It was an assumption (he hoped it was a good one) that he would find the controls in the machine’s head. It’s where he would put it. Wishing he’d come up with a better plan, Jim leapt from the wall and onto the machine. His aim wasn’t exact, and all the air was pushed from his lungs as he landed on the its massive shoulder. He allowed a few moments for his lungs to regain oxygen before moving to the machine’s head.

Knees pressed against the neck, Jim fumbled around, searching for a latch or a button or a knob – anything to help him get inside the head. If there was a goblin driving it, there was a way in…and he would find it. He wished he could tell Sir Didymus to stop making the thing move around, as he was having some difficulty maintaining his balance. Finally, he felt the latch, felt it pull. The head fell forward on the hinge, the nose touching the chest. Startled, the diminutive goblin looked up, eyes wide. Jim grinned, hauled the critter out by the shirt, and unceremoniously dropped him.

The little goblin bounced once, twice before righting itself. Black, beady eyes looked up at Jim. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Jim rolled his eyes. He was beyond caring about the inhabitants of the planet. If Jareth sent them after him, then they would receive the same treatment. The time for games was gone. He refused to be afraid, he refused to be cowed into submission, he refused to give into Jareth and his tricks.

After squeezing himself into the driver’s seat, Jim stared blankly at the controls. Of course, nothing was labeled. Tentatively, he reached for one of the controls and moved it forward – the machine began to walk forward. Good. Jim worked his way through each of the controls, nearly dropping the axe on Hoggle. Once he felt comfortable with the way the machine maneuvered, he turned it toward the center of the city.

Bending over, he hollered down to the others, “Stay behind me. I’m going to cut a path straight to Jareth.”

Jim led the small troop further into the city. Armored feet clamored against the cobblestone streets, Jareth’s troops coming out to meet them. Jim ignored them. Their arrows bounced harmlessly off the armored body. The world on either side of him could have dissolved into nothing and he wouldn’t have noticed. His entire being was focused on the castle, which stood dominating his line of vision. The din of small skirmishes being fought bravely by Sir Didymus, reluctantly by Hoggle, and fearfully by Ludo barely registered on the fringe of Jim’s consciousness. Not all sounds failed to register, however. Jim distinctly heard the fall of each footstep the machine took, and he felt each vibration as the ground beneath the giant feet trembled. This was good; he wanted to create a ruckus that would threaten the foundation of Jareth’s power. This was a good start.

The castle’s door was discernable for the first time. Jim felt nearly weightless with his relief, lightheaded from the cacophony of emotions which fought each other for dominance within his being. He would see Spock. He would face Jareth. His audacious confidence returned to him as he reached the door. For the first time in many hours, Jim once more believed he would leave this planet with Spock.

A grin on his face, Jim lifted the machine’s leg and kicked in the front door.

 **Part 15**

  


Jareth threw his arms out to help maintain balance as the ground beneath his feet trembled. His eyes scanned the room. The small goblins guarding Spock bounced around the floor, unable to maintain their footing. Spock thrashed around in his restraints. Jareth ground his teeth together. He heard the sounds of the battle going on outside the castle walls. The sounds were muted, which concerned him. He’d dispatched every goblin in the city to waylay Jim. It should be louder. Soon, the sounds of the skirmishes faded to nothing and only the heavy _thumping_ remained. Jareth was seized by a sudden fear – maybe the goblins had killed Jim. He’d given specific orders for him to remain unharmed, but accidents did happen. The ground trembled again and the door shook on its hinges. No, Jim was alive – he knew the _thumping_ was Jim. It had to be Jim.

When the door splintered into a million tiny pieces, Jareth threw his arm over his face, feeling the dust settle against his skin. He chuckled. It was quite an entrance. Once he was sure the deluge of wood had ceased, Jareth turned to face the intruder. He looked up, and up, and up; Jim was perched on top of the golem. Jareth allowed himself a moment to admire the self-assured smirk and cocky set of Jim’s shoulders before refocusing all of his faculties on the current situation. It was imperative that Jareth focus on the fact that Jim had just obliterated the door to his castle with his own golem, not how damn sexy he looked while doing this.

From his place on top of the machine, Jim surveyed the destruction he’d caused with a grin. He felt a bit euphoric, almost bouncy. When he’d noticed Jareth semi-cower at his entrance, he’d felt a bit of his old self seep back into his system. He wrapped confidence around himself like a blanket. He would leave this planet with Spock. Spock. Jim’s eyes zeroed in on his First Officer and his heart felt as if it would expand out of his body. The Vulcan slumped in his restraints, pain carefully hidden behind his mask of stoicism, but Jim could see it; Jim could _feel_ it.

Jareth moved to the front of the golem and peered up at Jim.

“Welcome to my home, Jim.”

Jim’s hardened gaze turned to Jareth. For a long moment, he simply stared down at the creature who had caused him pain – who had kidnapped Spock, who had allowed him to realize his heart’s desire…who had mercilessly tortured that special individual. Jim knew he’d never be able to simply kill Jareth. There was too much between them, too much shared experience. Part of him would always be grateful to Jareth for forcing him to face his feelings for Spock, but he’d always hate Jareth for what he had forced Spock to endure. Jim allowed the anger to rise within him. He embraced it, allowing it to override every other thought in his mind and replace every other feeling. He was anger and hate.

Jim refocused his gaze on Spock, who looked at him, a single brow raised in that Spock-like way of his. Jim smiled fondly down at his First Officer and maneuvered the machine to heft the axe. Jareth, noticing Jim’s intent, moved in front of Jim – blocking Jim’s path to his Vulcan.

With a growl, Jim brought the machine’s left arm across its giant chest before sweeping it down and out – catching the side of Jareth’s face. The force of the blow tossed Jareth across the room where he landed face down, arms and legs akimbo.

Jareth out of his path, Jim had the machine heft the axe once more. He brought the giant axehead down on the chains restraining Spock. The metallic ring of metal on metal echoed in the cavernous room. Shards of metal fell to the ground, joining the remnants of the door. For a moment, Jim stared at Spock, frozen. Then, with haste driven by need, he leapt from the top of the machine.

“Humpf,” Jim groaned, the landing not a perfect ten.

Freed from his bonds, Spock took several steps closer to Jim.

“Captain, are you injured?”

Jim shook his head as he rose to his feet. He brushed the dust from his pants as he looked into Spock’s concerned eyes.

“I’m fine, Spock.”

Spock nodded his head once, but Jim knew Spock doubted the truth of his words. He could have broken every bone in his body in his less than graceful fall and still would have considered himself fine because he was with Spock. Not in a dream, not in an illusion – Spock was really with him. The presence he’d felt in his mind, the small tingle of awareness of Spock – the longing he’d felt in the dream world Jareth had created – filled his being. Every cell in his body yearned to be close to Spock. His feet moved swiftly, closing the remaining gap. He was centimeters away from Spock. Still, both stared at each other. Jim could feel the turmoil in Spock, but couldn’t identify the source. It stirred a deep need within him, a need to protect Spock.

Wanting to ease the tension in Spock’s body, Jim reached up and smoothed his hand down the side of Spock’s face. Icy tendrils of self-doubt began to wrap around his heart when Spock remained impassive under his caress. The only thing keeping Jim from complete panic was the simple fact that Spock didn’t move away. Spock’s eyes remained unreadable, but he didn’t look away. Jim’s heart began to beat faster in his chest, fear replacing his earlier joy. Maybe he was too late. He was concerned Jareth had succeeded in breaking Spock – thereby breaking Jim. Between the sexual, physical and emotional torture Jareth had subjected them to, maybe Spock was disgusted by Jim. Maybe he felt Jim had failed him. Maybe Jim believed he’d failed Spock. Shame began to meld with his fear, causing both to roll around within him. Jim felt nauseous.

Not wanting to disgust Spock with his closeness any longer, Jim began to move away. Before he’d made it more than two steps, he felt Spock’s hand tighten around his wrist.

Spock stared down at where he grasped Jim’s wrist. He didn’t remember telling his arm to prevent Jim’s movement. He simply could not allow Jim to walk away. There had been such pain in Jim’s eyes – pain Spock somehow knew he had caused. He found the concept of causing Jim pain unsupportable. Unfortunately, he was unsure how to comfort him. He allowed his eyes to meet Jim’s once more, hoping to encourage him. The look in Jim’s eyes caused the force which had been incessantly hammering against his barriers to become almost painful. He knew its source; he’d been aware of its identity for many hours. However, he still feared the repercussions of removing his shields. The force was leaking through the cracks in his barriers; he could hear the whispers of _Jim Jim Jim_ in his mind. He pondered the possibility of Jim being aware of their bond. After their interlude in the dream-induced ball, he knew a bond had been solidified between himself and his Captain. Foolishly heeding his emotions over his logic, Spock had chosen to ignore that knowledge.

“Jim – ”

Before Spock could complete whatever explanation or statement he was going to utter, Jim pressed his lips to Spock’s. He kept the kiss light, not wanting Spock to retreat into his logic-reinforced bunker of stoicism. Jim had Spock. Jim had his lips pressed to Spock’s. He wanted nothing to interrupt this moment. Tentatively, his tongue traced the seam of Spock’s lips and his hands moved up to grasp Spock’s biceps. He felt his muscles go slack, content at the feel of Spock’s lean muscle beneath his fingertips. This was his reality.

When Spock felt Jim’s tongue gently caress his lips, the remnants of his carefully constructed barriers crumbled. In a torrent, the feelings he’d been suppressing crashed over him. He understood the reason Vulcans craved the serenity of logic. In the wake of such a tidal wave of emotion, Spock felt raw, naked. Interestingly, he found himself unafraid and unconcerned by this exposure. He felt as though he was safe – Jim had made it to the Goblin King’s castle. For the first time in his life, Spock felt comfortable with his emotions – felt they would be safe with the man currently begging entrance to his mouth. He found that upon relaxing his hold on the emotional deluge caused by one James T. Kirk, he wanted to be swept away. Spock wanted to be pulled along in the wake of the man who was a force of nature.

Jim felt the moment Spock relaxed in his soul. When Spock’s silk soft lips parted, Jim struggled to keep his knees from depositing him on the ground at Spock’s feet, where he ordinarily wouldn’t mind being, but in this case it would prohibit him from reaching Spock’s lips. Instead, Jim moved his hands up to gently hold Spock’s neck as he angled his head to deepen the kiss. He used his tongue to trace every crevice of Spock’s mouth, reveling in the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him. Jim poured his soul into the kiss. With each swipe of their tongues against each other, Jim apologized for the pain Spock had endured, for the distance that had existed between them, for being powerless against Jareth’s seduction. Thoughts of Jareth caused Jim to crush Spock impossibly closer to him, as if by his mere presence he could prevent any harm from ever coming near the Vulcan again. Spock must have sensed the change in his posture, because his hands moved down Jim’s arms and wrapped around his back, soothing fingers strumming up and down his spine.

Needing to breathe, Jim reluctantly broke away from Spock’s lips, forehead resting against his. Basking in the warmth of his arms, Jim felt peace settle over him. He opened his eyes and was nearly knocked over by the force of the emotion swimming in Spock’s normally expressionless eyes. He held the gaze, afraid to blink and wake up from the most amazing dream ever. Part of Jim feared the strength of the look, feared he was undeserving of such – such, no. Jim wouldn’t say it. Not first. Not this time. He would leave it unlabeled for now and simply enjoy it being directed at him. It was simpler that way.

“Jim,” Spock whispered, his voice ghosting across Jim’s skin.

“Mmm?”

“Are you sure you did not injure yourself in the fall? The distance was high.”

Jim smiled at the concern lacing Spock’s voice, his fingers gently playing with the hair at Spock’s nape. “I’m fine, Spock. Even Bones wouldn’t find anything broken.”

“If you are sure, Jim.”

“I like it when you call me Jim.”

Jim moved his hands down to Spock’s arm, forcing the Vulcan to release his hold. He gently took Spock’s hands in his own, noting the way Spock’s eyes rolled back and how his lips parted ever so slightly. With tenderness, Jim smoothed his fingers around Spock’s, examining the skin carefully.

“Spock?”

“I am uninjured, Jim.”

“Touch telepathy is cheating.”

“On the contrary, Captain, it is simply a more effective means of answering your query.”

Unable to resist, Jim smiled warmly at Spock, only a slight shake of his head showing his acceptance of the answer. He looked back down at Spock’s hands and brought the right one up closer to his eyes. Barely discernible, a fine line, no more than discolored skin, went from the tip of his thumb to the fleshy part of the hand. Jim made a face, eyes looking back up at Spock.

“I thought Vulcan’s didn’t lie.”

Spock could feel the disapproval and concern warring within Jim. He wanted to comfort him, but also knew additional fallacies would bring Jim more pain. Spock knew Jim blamed himself for the scars on his skin, for the scars on his soul. What Spock did not know was how to make Jim cease berating himself.

“The injury has healed, Jim. It appears the scar will remain. I assure you I am in no pain.”

Without breaking eye contact, Jim carefully brought Spock’s thumb to his mouth. He placed a feather-light kiss on the tip before darting his tongue out to lave the same area. Jim could see Spock’s eyes dilate, nearly entirely black. Well aware of Vulcan physiology, he knew they were well beyond Vulcan first base. Slowly, Jim licked the pale scar from the fleshy part up to the top before pulling the thumb into his mouth. Lovingly, Jim soothed it with his tongue. While the entire act was highly sexual, Jim’s main goal was to comfort Spock – arousal was a happy perk. Jim sucked gently on his thumb, moving his mouth up and down as if he could erase the event with the power of his mouth.

The depth of Jim’s emotions continued to flow over Spock. He felt himself harden painfully as Jim continued his ministrations on Spock’s sensitive thumb. At first, he thought to will away his arousal, being able to clearly discern that Jim meant to comfort him with his actions. He dismissed this when he felt the slight shift in Jim, felt the pride Jim felt at knowing he was both comforting and pleasuring him. It warmed him that Jim would be so interested in seeing to Spock’s well-being that he would place more consideration on Spock’s needs than his own. As Spock allowed the arousal to spread throughout his body, he found it most difficult to maintain eye contact. When Jim did _something_ clever with his tongue, Spock’s eyes rolled back in his head and a low moan escaped his lips.

The sound of Spock moaning caused Jim’s toes to curl in his boots. He planned to see how many other things he could do to cause Spock to repeat that exact sound once they were back onboard the _Enterprise_. It was a sound he wanted to hear first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Wrapped in Spock’s arms, or Spock wrapped in his arms. Either would be fantastic.

Wanting to test what he knew, Jim changed the speed of his mouth as it moved up and down Spock’s thumb. He removed his mouth entirely, his saliva glistening against Spock’s skin and blew across the tip, causing Spock to shiver. Jim smirked. He could get used to this. He licked at the underside of Spock’s thumb as though it were a lollypop before focusing all of his attention on the tip. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked on the tip, grazing his teeth across the tender flesh of the pad.

Spock felt the tenuous control he had on his arousal completely crumble when Jim’s teeth grazed the flesh of his thumb. A keening moan rose up out of him as pure white pleasure descended upon him. His entire body shuddered with the power of his release. He had never experienced a completion that powerful. He knew there was a stain upon the front of his pants, and with Jim looking down at him, a smug little smirk on his face, Spock blushed, but with no shame. He found his pleasure mirrored Jim’s. The experience had been mutually agreeable. Later, Spock would enjoy reversing their current states. He would enjoy it greatly.

“Jim, that was quite a show,” Jareth said from the other side of the room.

Mentally, Jim called himself a hundred kinds of fool. He’d completely forgotten about Jareth. That was an epically stupid mistake to make. Jim turned, blocking Spock from Jareth. He refused to lose Spock now, not after everything they’d been through together. Not after _everything_.

“I’d forgotten you were here. How rude of me.”

“Tsk, tsk. Manners, Jim.”

“I’ve made it to the castle, Jareth. Spock is _mine_.”

“You’ve not defeated me, dear boy.”

Jim tilted his head.

“Last chance to accept my offer. Give in to me now, Jim, and all will be forgiven. Refuse, and you’ll remain on my planet as a slave instead of as consort as you deserve.”

“I will return to the _Enterprise_ with Spock.”

Jareth shook his head. “You’ve done so well, Jim. You’ve made it further than anyone expected. Don’t be a fool.”

“My will is as strong as yours, Jareth.”

“Stop!”

“Allow me to leave with Spock.”

“I cannot allow that.”

Jim took a step toward Jareth, shaking off Spock’s attempt to stop him.

“What a pity.”

Before Jim could take a second step, the throne room began to dissolve.

 **Part 16**

  


Jim found himself wishing for a planet where the world around him didn’t continually morph into something different. It unnerved him that Jareth could manipulate the molecules of his planet so effortlessly. Plus, he knew Spock was no longer behind him; that just made him angry. The tethering them together idea might happen. Every part of Jim searched for Spock, called out to him. He wasn’t positive, but he thought they might have bonded. If they had, it would explain the faint presence he felt in the back of his mind and the clawing need to find Spock, to ensure his safety. He was far from an expert, but Jim had studied the Vulcan culture in some depth while he was at the academy. As a result, he knew the bond was permanent, but not yet fully realized. There had to be some form of intercourse to solidify the bond between them. Jim found himself smiling at the idea. Fear quickly replaced that feeling; he had no guarantee Spock wanted the bond, wanted _him_. Jim shook his head. Now was not the time to analyze the nuances of their new _status_ …he needed to find Spock, and get them the hell off the planet.

Looking up, he noticed the room for the first time. It was cavernous and filled with staircases, archways and dead ends. With a shake of his head, Jim smiled at the sight. It was similar to the works of a Terran artist, Escher. Jim had always found his art amazing; he’d spent hours looking over the artwork trying to figure out the pattern, to find where it began and where it ended. It frustrated him that he never seemed to be able to figure out the solution. The pieces reminded him of no-win scenarios, a capricious joke on someone. He was now that someone. Knowing it would be useless to stand in one place, Jim took the staircase to his left. Unsurprisingly, the staircase put him on the opposite side of the room, about a story higher.

“I might have neglected to mention this, Jim,” Jareth’s voice echoed through the area, “but the clock is still counting down, and if you run out of time, well, you know the consequences.”

“Another game with no rules, Jareth?”

“All games have rules, Jim.”

Jim shook his head and continued his aimless journey through the corridors. He knew Jareth would only share the rules if he felt like it; Jim doubted he’d have any such inclinations. Undoubtedly, the scene Jareth had witnessed between himself and Spock had eradicated any remaining mercy the Goblin King might be persuaded to show. It hadn’t been Jim’s intention for Jareth to witness such an intimate moment; it hadn’t been Jim’s intention to _have_ such an intimate moment with Spock – not here. He found, however, that it was difficult to muster any genuine remorse.

Jim ascended another staircase, finding himself unfocused on his surroundings. It was not the best idea for him to walk around Jareth’s funhouse in a haze of scattered thoughts, but he found it hard to focus on a puzzle he knew had no solution. He turned to walk up the staircase he’d just walked down, finding perverse pleasure in the thought – he wondered if he continued to go up and down the same staircase if Jareth would grow tired of the game and end it. As quickly as he had the thought, he dismissed it. He knew Jareth would never grow tired of this game, not when Jim was the ultimate prize.

As he lighted on the final step, something bounced against his foot. Jim glanced down; the peach rocked gently against his foot. With a shaking hand, Jim reached for the fruit. It was the one Jareth had given to him, a single bite marring the round skin. A pang made his breath catch. He didn’t need Jareth’s reminders; he knew he’d betrayed Spock. Jim’s only hope was that one day, he’d earn Spock’s forgiveness – earn his trust. His first step toward redemption would be returning Spock to his post onboard the _Enterprise_.

Jim felt the fuzzy skin of the peach beneath his fingers. Memories of Jareth’s perfect nightmare ghosted through his subconscious. He glared down at the offending peach, squeezing, the juice dripping between his fingers.

“Jim, you’re making a mess. Your fingers are sticky. Covered in sweet juices,” Jareth whispered from behind him.

Involuntarily, Jim shuddered as the liquid voice caressed his senses. He felt Jareth’s fingers close around his wrist, turning him to face Jareth. The Goblin King’s eyes were lidded as he brought Jim’s fingers to his lips. He felt Jareth’s lips close around his first finger, felt the sensuous slide of his tongue against his finger. Biting the inside of his mouth was the only way to keep from moaning. Feeling Jareth suck the juice from his fingers was erotic; no amount of denial, of _wanting_ it to be otherwise would negate the fact. Jareth knew his buttons.

“Do you think it felt like this for Spock? Do you think he enjoyed the feeling of your mouth around his fingers the way you enjoy the feeling of mine?”

Jim yanked his hand out of Jareth’s. “I’m sure it felt nothing like that, Jareth. Spock isn’t disgusted by the mere sight of me.”

Jareth’s mouth formed a cruel smile. “Are you sure of that, Jim?”

Before he could think better of it, Jim landed a right hook to Jareth’s face. He felt the hot pain shoot up his arm, but it was satisfying because Jareth’s head swung back (only slightly, but it was enough for Jim).

With a chuckle, Jareth wiped the green blood from the corner of his mouth. “You’re not sure, are you, Jim? You’re not sure he doesn’t look at you with a bland look on his face while feeling nothing but contempt for you. You’re not sure he’s not just waiting for you to betray him again, to reveal your weakness again.”

Jim continued to glare at Jareth; he refused to acknowledge the validity of those statements. He would not allow his fears to be compounded by Jareth’s taunts.

“You’re determined,” Jareth began, “to leave this planet with Spock. I admire that tenacious attitude of yours. I have one final gift for you. A chance for you to say your goodbyes.”

Jim waited silently for Jareth to elaborate.

A glass ball appeared in Jareth’s hand. He moved it around his fingers, watching it with his eyes. He balanced it on top of three fingers, ensuring Jim was focused on it. Then, he tossed it across the room. When it came to a stop, Spock stood looking around the area.

“Fascinating.”

Jim raced to the ledge, stopping just in time – arms flailing wildly to help him maintain balance. He’d simply needed to reach Spock. He wondered at the instinctual reaction, which even for him had been abrupt. It must be tied to whatever bond had formed between them; he and his First Officer would be having a detailed discussion once they were back onboard the _Enterprise_.   

“Captain, are you alright?” Spock called.

“I’m fine, Spock.”

“Sir, I would advise against any attempt to leap across. I calculate your chances of success would not be favorable.”

“Understood, Mister Spock.”

“Ever feel this frustration before, Jim? Ever had what you want so close – but just beyond your reach?”

Jim smirked at Jareth. “Spock is not beyond my reach, Jareth.”

Spock raised an eyebrow upon hearing Jim’s statement. He calculated the distance between Jim’s place on the far side of the room and his own. Once again, he concluded the gap was well beyond Jim’s capacity to span it. He wondered at the paradox Jim’s statement presented. In any other human of Spock’s acquaintance, he would attribute a metaphor to the illogical statement, but Jim failed to fit any normal human patterns.

Without sparing another glance for Jareth, Jim moved back to the far wall. He refused to allow himself time to analyze the possible outcomes as he sprinted toward the edge.

“Jim!”

“Captain!”

Their cries barely registered as Jim ran toward the gap between himself and Spock. He felt weightless as the ground beneath his feet disappeared. His rate of descent felt strange, he should be falling more slowly. Glancing around, he saw the walls break apart; another one of Jareth’s illusions crumbling around him.

His feet landed gently. The scene around him reminded him of Tartarus, Jareth being a warped god of chaos. From the archway in front of him, Jareth came striding out, puffs of smoke adding an ethereal affect to his entrance. The clock materialized next to Jareth’s head; Jim had minutes to end this nightmare. There were no second chances and no margin for error.

“Give me Spock.”

“Jim, think about what you’re asking. I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of – everything you’ve never thought to dream.”

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the Vulcan that you have stolen.”

“I stole no one, Jim. You know this.”

“Semantics, Jareth. Regardless, you’ve imprisoned and tortured an officer of the Federation. I cannot ignore that.”

“I did all that was asked of me, Jim.”

“And then some, Jareth. No one asked for your…embellishments.”

“Come now, Jim. I’m not alone in my creative maneuvers.”

“Then I’ll stick to the script to avoid further misunderstandings. Where did we leave off?” Jim paused.

The clock next to Jareth began to chime.

“For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great – ”

“Jim,” Jareth pleaded, “look at what I’m offering…your dreams. I ask so little.”

“My kingdom is as great – ” Jim faltered.

Jareth smirked. “We mustn’t neglect the formalities, Jim.”

“Damn,” Jim turned away. He felt Jareth move closer.

“Just let me rule you, and I’ll make your dreams a reality.”

Jim turned. With his steel gaze, he walked towards Jareth, forcing the Goblin King to retreat.

He smirked at the nervous look on Jareth’s’ face. “You didn’t really think I’d forget that line, now did you?”

 _Tink tink tink._ The crystal ball fell from Jareth’s hand.

“You have no power over me.”

The final chime struck.

Jareth’s departing, “What a pity,” echoed as the world disappeared once again.

“This is getting _really_ old,” Jim groused, waiting for – whatever came next.

“Captain?”

“Spock!” Jim ran to where his First Officer was standing.

“Where precisely are we, Captain?”

Jim forced himself to look away from Spock; the effort took more than he cared to admit.

“We’re outside the labyrinth, Spock. There – ” Jim pointed to a spot along the wall, “is the entrance to the labyrinth.”

“Fascinating.”

“Indeed, Mister Spock. Now we need to figure out a way back to the _Enterprise_.”

“I was relieved of both my phaser and communicator upon arriving in the throne room.”

Jim patted his pockets, and pulled the communicator Jareth had given to him from his back pocket.

“Captain – ” Spock said as Jim opened his mouth to activate the device.

“Spock?”

“Are you sure using Jareth’s device is safe?”

Jim shook his head. “Not at all, Mister Spock. I don’t have a better idea, though. Do you?”

“What makes you believe such a device will return us to our ship?”

“Jareth said it would reveal the desire of my heart. When I activated it the first time, it showed me you. You’re here with me now, and the strongest desire I have is to return to the _Enterprise_. Logically, then, asking to see the desire of my heart now would reveal the _Enterprise_.”

While Spock remained unconvinced of the soundness of Jim’s logic, he could find no obvious flaw. In addition, Jim’s illogical plans had a habit of working precisely as he had anticipated. He had no logical reason to doubt Jim’s success rate.

“You don’t believe it will work,” Jim stated.

Spock moved closer to Jim. He reached out and ran the back of his hand down the side of Jim’s face, savoring the feel of Jim’s skin against his own.

“I have faith in _you_ , Jim.”

Warmth infused Jim at Spock’s words. He surged up, his lips capturing Spock’s. Jim felt Spock’s hand move to cradle the back of his head, holding him close. This time, Spock ran his tongue along the seam of Jim’s lips. With a fond smile, Jim parted his lips, allowing Spock’s tongue entrance to his mouth. For long moments, they stood there, tongues sliding against each other, each savoring the taste of the other. Soon, Jim felt a stirring in the lower regions of his body and pulled back.

“This is hardly the place to get carried away, Spock.”

“Of course, Captain. We should return to the _Enterprise_ presently.”

“You just had your tongue down my throat and it’s still _Captain_?”

When Spock didn’t say anything, Jim shook his head and moved back a couple of steps, the communicator between the two of them. The odd formality Spock displayed troubled Jim. He shook the thought from his mind. Nothing could be allowed to keep him from the _Enterprise_ , not now, not after he’d finally defeated Jareth. Jim closed his eyes, focusing all of his being on his ship.

“I want to see the _Enterprise_.”

 **Part 17**

  


A hologram of the _Enterprise_ appeared before them. A bright smile lit Jim’s face as he observed various members of the Command Crew working frantically on something.

“It’s almost as though we’re being hailed,” Jim heard a clearly puzzled Uhura tell Bones.

“Almost?” Bones growled.

“It doesn’t register like any signal I’ve ever received.”

“Can you bring it up?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it!”

Jim couldn’t help but laugh as he watched Uhura scowl at Bones. It was odd to watch his crew react to seeing him appear on the screen. He could almost feel their relief, and it warmed his heart.

“Jim!”

“Bones,” Jim answered, “Can Scotty beam us up?” He didn’t want to waste time discussing the million things they needed to do, not while he was on the surface of Jareth’s planet.

He felt Spock shift slightly and glanced over at the Vulcan. Spock’s intent gaze analyzed the apparition before them with the scientific interest Jim’d always admired in his Science Officer. In spite of the assurances he’d received, Jim felt the distance Spock was placing between them. He could hear Bones and Scotty arguing about something…Bones  insisting that Scotty simply get them back on the ship, in the background, but didn’t seem to possess the necessary strength to pull his eyes away from Spock. In the pit of his stomach, Jim feared Spock would simply disappear again…and that he’d be unable to save him.

“Jim,” Bones called, pulling Jim from his thoughts.

Spock’s intent gaze settled on him, and Jim realized he’d been addressed more than once. He fought the blush of embarrassment at being caught lost to his own internal demons.

“Bones?”

“We can do it, but it might not work.”

“It might not work? Bones – what aren’t you telling me?”

“The technology – it’s advanced Jim. We’re not sure we’ve figured it out completely. There might be…complications.”

“How sure is Scotty that it will work?”

“Enough to try it.”

“Then do it.”

Jim and Spock materialized on the bridge moments later, the communicator cupped in Jim’s outstretched hands.

“Oh, thank god,” Bones breathed.

Jim blinked, the bridge of the _Enterprise_ coming into focus. Immediately, his eyes sought out Spock, a soft smile touching his face when he located the Vulcan. Spock stood about two feet away, his arms clasped behind his back. Jim bit back the almost hysterical laughter that wanted to burst forth from his being; there was something so perfect about watching Spock silently assess the _Enterprise_. He shook his head; he should be examining the ship as well – he was the Captain.

“Bones,” Jim called, startling the crew to attention, “Who’s the Admiral in charge?”

Bones looked at Jim, a frown marring his brow.

“Jim, you know the Admiral.”

“Bones,” Jim repeated tiredly, “Just answer me.”

“It’s Pike, Jim. Are you alright?”

Jim smiled, relief filling his being. Ignoring Bones, Jim turned to face Spock. “It would appear that we’re safely back onboard the _Enterprise_.”

“Indeed, Captain.”

“Scotty to the bridge.”

“Mister Scott, this is the Captain.”

“Ah, Cap’n, happy it was you we beamed back aboard.”

“Glad to be back. We’ll celebrate with a drink later. What do you mean you’re glad it’s us? You planned to beam up someone else?”

“Didn’t rightly know it was you and the Commander – not with any certainty. Their technology is a bugger, but we’ve been monitoring it for a few hours now. It’s exciting, truth be told. Never seen a system this sophisticated. Quite the clever bugger, too. It’s not really magic – well, not all of it. Jareth’s got a bit of faye in him, no mistake, though. But most of it’s science. Good science. Brilliant science. What I wouldn’t give to have a pint with him and discuss the – ”

“Mister Scott,” Spock interrupted, “Please be brief. Report your findings.”

“Right, sorry, Commander. It’s a transporter – but, it’s more advanced than anything – even transwarp beaming. It’s got an incredible preciseness about it, but it’s the planet’s shield that’s the real keeper.”

“Mister Scott,” Jim began, “can we gain control of the planet’s shielding ability?”

“Aye, Cap’n. I believe we can.”

“What about the transporter? Can we disable it?”

“What’r you thinking, sir?”

“Trap Jareth on the planet. Isolated from everything, but visible so that the Federation can keep tabs on him. The last thing we need is Jareth abducting more Starfleet Officers.” Jim paused, a slight tremor running through his body. “Or have him chasing us through space.”

Jim felt Spock move closer to him. He turned to face his First Officer. “Mister Spock?”

“Are you certain of this course of action, Captain?”

“I believe it will work. It’s the best course of action. I can’t simply destroy the planet – much as we – _I_ – might want to. Jareth launched an attack against two personnel on the ship. He made no act of aggression against the Federation which justifies eradicating  an entire planet. Not all of its inhabitants deserve to die.” Jim wondered who he was trying to convince, his crew or himself.

Spock looked as though he wanted to say more, to argue, but he didn’t. It bothered Jim that he remained taciturn. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Spock was somehow disappointed in his decision, but the bridge was not the place to have that conversation, and, more importantly, they didn’t have the time to discuss the situation. He appreciated Spock’s point of view and opinions on his command decisions; he viewed them as a team. What bothered him most was the feeling that Spock was intentionally refusing to offer his thoughts. It hurt. Jareth was right. Spock was disgusted by Jim’s weakness – his inability to destroy the planet, and the Goblin King. Even with the weight of that knowledge, Jim knew he couldn’t destroy the planet. Another sentiment his First Officer would resent.

“Captain.”

Uhura’s voice pulled Jim from his thoughts

“We’re being hailed.”

Jim smirked at Spock. “Jareth.”

“That would be the most logical conclusion, Captain.”

“Put it up on the screen, Lieutenant,” Jim ordered.

“Yes, Captain.”

Jareth’s face filled the screen, and the crew on the bridge pulled back instinctively. They’d just gotten their commanding officers back; none were eager to face the individual responsible for kidnapping their Captain and First Officer.

“You made it back to your ship,” Jareth said, skipping the preliminaries.

“As I told you I would,” Jim responded.

“I enjoyed our game, Jim. I look forward to meeting you again.”

Spock moved closer to the Captain, just behind his right shoulder.

Noticing the possessive move, Jareth inclined his head slightly. His eyes refocused on Jim.

“It would appear, Jim, that the final move belongs to you, rightfully won,” Jareth said.

“I’m not going to destroy your planet, Jareth. I’m not going to be responsible for genocide. However, neither can I allow you to abduct any other members of Starfleet.”

“That sounds close to a no-win scenario, Captain,” Jareth said, a smile touching his lips.

Jim smiled. “Hardly. Instead, we will take control of your planet’s technology. Mister Scott?”

“Aye, Captain?”

“Please ensure Jareth is unable to use his transporter. Also, disable the planet’s ability to mask it’s presence – permanently.”

“Jim – ”

“Don’t push me, Jareth. If there are any attempts to breach your confinement, more extreme measures will be taken. There won’t be any second chances.”

Jareth bowed his head. “It would seem, then, that we have nothing left to discuss, Captain Kirk.”

“No, we do not, Jareth, King of the Goblins.”

“Until we meet again,” Jareth said as he signed off.

The entire bridge was silent when the screen went blank. Uhura eyed both the Captain and First Officer with concern.

Jim couldn’t look at Spock; he couldn’t risk the disappointment he would find lurking in the brown eyes. Instead he turned to Bones.

“Bones, my ready room. Now. Mister Sulu, chart a course for the nearest Starbase. Commander Spock, you have the conn.”

Bones and Spock shared a look. Neither knew the Captain’s intentions. Spock took his place at the Captain’s station while Bones followed Jim off the bridge.

The ready room doors closed with a hiss. Jim stood with his back to Bones, hands balled into fists at his sides. Bones noted the tension in the man’s body, and braced himself for what was to come. He knew he deserved whatever punishment the Jim decided to give him; there was no excuse for his actions, as unintentional as they had been. He _knew_ better.

“Bones – ” Jim’s shoulders sagged. “I – as Captain, it is my duty to ensure the welfare of my crew. That includes the First Officer. You and Spock have issues; I don’t really care about that. What I do care about is the motivation behind your actions. I need to know I can trust you to not wish away members of the goddamned crew. Consider this your warning. Suck it up from now on – any other insubordinate actions against the First Officer…” Jim broke off. He turned to face Bones. “Don’t make me choose between you and Spock, Bones.”

Normally unemotional, Bones found it difficult to speak around the lump in his throat. He’d known Jim for a long time. In all that time, he’d never seen the boy look so lost, so small. It broke something in him to know he’d caused that pain.

“Jim – Captain.”

“Don’t! Don’t you _ever_ call me Captain.”

Bones looked at him questioningly. The poorly masked terror in Jim’s eyes made Bones’ blood go cold. He felt nauseous at the thought of what both men had experienced down on the planet’s surface. Both wore the same haunted expression – Spock’s as much of an expression as the Vulcan ever displayed. He hoped one day Jim would trust him enough to discuss it with him.

“Okay, Jim, okay.” Bones paused, struggling to find the words. “I need you to know I never meant for Spock to be taken off the ship. No excuse for what I did, I know, but I need you to know he’s the only green-blooded hobgoblin I ever want around.”

Jim nodded. “Good.”

Bones remained quiet, but made no move to leave. He could tell from the way Jim continued to avoid his gaze, and toed the carpet that there was more.

“I need you to examine him, Bones. Jareth tortured him. His hands. Tore the skin from his thumbs. From his thumbs!”

“Bastard.”

“Do what you can for him.”

“Jim – what makes you think Spock’s going to submit to a physical?”

Jim smiled. He turned to the com unit.

“Kirk to bridge.”

“Captain?”

“Spock, please join us in the ready room.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Bones and Jim waited in a slightly awkward silence. They both knew it would take time for them to re-gain their footing with each other. Some things could be forgiven, but not easily forgotten.

Spock entered the room and glanced briefly between the two men. He moved to stand closer to Jim, an action not lost on the doctor.

“Captain?” Spock asked.

“Spock, I want you to go with Bones down to medical. He’s going to examine you, make sure there are no negative effects from – ” Jim paused, trying to find the right words. “From our time on the planet.”

“Captain, as I informed you earlier, I am quite well.”

“Spock,” Jim snapped, voice frustrated, “Don’t make me order you to medical.”

Ever so slightly, Spock inclined his head. “Very well, Captain.”

“Once Bones has cleared you, you may return to your duties.”

Bones and Spock watched Jim leave the room. Once the doors slid shut behind him, they both stood silently for a moment.

“Did the Captain indicate why he insists upon this physical examination, Doctor?”

“He’s worried about you, Spock,” Bones explained, amazed it wasn’t painfully obvious to the Vulcan.

“His worry is unfounded.”

Bones shook his head.  

"Didn’t you ever wonder why Jim took the Kobayashi Maru more than once?" Bones asked.

Bones pushed a button and the door hissed open. He motioned for Spock to precede him from the room. They entered the turbolift and rode to the medical bay.

"I believed he took the exam on more than one occasion because he did not enjoy failing to defeat the simulation" Spock replied.

Bones inclined his head. "Sure, that was a part of it. It wasn’t the main motivation though."

He ushered the Vulcan into his med bay, waving the hovering staff out; he knew Jim would want this handled privately.

Spock raised an eyebrow. Bones sighed heavily.

"Do you remember what Jim did the first time he took it?"

"He attempted to reroute the Klingon's attack to his own vessel, thereby allowing the Kobayashi Maru a chance to escape. I believe he thought his vessel would withstand the attack and still be able to disengage. His plan failed, resulting in the deaths of the inhabitants of both vessels."

Bones nodded. He remembered. "I was with him. He sat in the simulation room for an hour afterward before I could coax him into movin'. Jim couldn’t accept that everyone had died. He blamed himself for it. Kept mutterin' 'bout doing it different."

"It was illogical for Jim to believe his actions were the singular cause of the crew’s deaths. Many additional factors contributed."

"Maybe," Boned conceded, "But only Jim was the Captain."

Bones held his hand out, silently asking permission to touch the sensitive Vulcan. Fortunately, Spock placed his hand in Bones’; both men knew Jim would not rest until he knew Spock was healthy. Bones ran the tricorder over Spock’s hands, noting the discoloration marring the smooth skin. He understood Jim’s concern.

"Jim came to me a couple of months later sayin' he was going to take it again. He'd been thinking about it a lot...kept asking questions....trying to figure out what he did wrong."

"The first mistake he made, then, was assuming his actions in the simulation were incorrect."

"On a normal person, sure, but not Jim. The second time he took it was worse."

"On the contrary, Doctor. The second time Jim attempted the simulation he saved his crew."

"At the expense of the Kobayashi Maru."

"Please clarify, Doctor."

"Jim didn’t sleep for weeks after that. He kept moanin' about the Maru...what right did he had to save himself and let the others die. How could he have made such a cowardly decision? I gave him mild sedatives for weeks just to get him to sleep. Eventually, the nightmares left him alone. Then the idiot came up with the idea of doing it a third time. I tried talkin' him out of it, but the infant wouldn’t listen. Kept insisting it'd be different. Claimed he'd figured it out."

"If I am to understand you, Doctor, you claim Jim's psychology would demand he retake the simulation until the results were favorable?"

"I’m saying Jim couldn’t deal with everyone dyin'. Damnit, he felt responsible for everyone. Still does."

"You refer to myself and the incidents on the planet’s surface."

Bones nodded. "Jim blames himself. He is punishing himself for what happened to you. For his weakness."

Spock looked hard at the Doctor. He knew Jim was distressed; the bond revealed Jim's emotions. He thought the matter of his scars had been resolved while they were still on the planet. Apparently this was a flawed assumption. It concerned him that Jim was so upset on his account. He in no way held Jim accountable for the events which had transpired on the planet. He found it illogical for Jim to continue to blame himself.

"Doctor, in your experience, what alleviates these periods of undue self-recrimination?"

Bones smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "The next big disaster."

"The behavior repeats itself endlessly."

"Yep. That’s about the sum of it."

"Fascinating."

Bones bit the inside of his mouth to keep from saying something else he'd regret. He still didn’t know everything that had gone on in the labyrinth, but he saw shadows in Jim’s eyes that hadn’t been there before...so whatever had happened had been awful. He also knew things between Jim and Spock had morphed into something different...something deeper. Jim had forgiven him for landing Spock in the clutches of the Goblin King without a second thought; Bones would never forget that. Any other Captain would have jettisoned his ass as soon as he returned to the ship. Not Jim.

"Thank you for your insight, Leonard," Spock said, voice soft.

Knowing the significance of being informally addressed, Bones could only nod in response, the now familiar lump once more residing in his throat. He replaced the tricorder. He and Spock both knew there was nothing he could do for the scarring, so he left it unsaid. It would be written into a report he would send to Jim, along with the reassurances he was looking for. Other than the scars, Spock was in perfect Vulcan health. Physically, at least.

Spock left the medical bay with more insight about his bondmate, but found the knowledge more troublesome than helpful. While Spock found solace in the knowledge that Jim did not regret their bond, he feared he would be unable to find a solution to Jim’s destructive, unhealthy and illogical psychological patterns. Though Jim was apt at closing off his emotions, Spock could still easily read the weariness in Jim’s eyes. Jim should no longer trouble himself over the events on Jareth’s planet. Oddly, Spock found himself angered by Jim’s reaction.

With automatic movements, Spock returned to the bridge.

 **Part 18**

Jim felt Spock’s eyes on him the moment the Vulcan entered the bridge. The report from Bones was frustrating, but not surprising. Jim also pointedly ignored the suggestion that he retire to his quarters for the evening, one, because he wasn’t a Victorian-era woman and two, because he needed to stay on the bridge, to assure himself that this was real. He would sleep later. Well, he’d try to sleep later. Since he’d left Spock and Bones, he’d been reading Scotty's findings about the technology Jareth used, and he found himself once more impressed by the able-bodied crew he’d inherited. It was in that manner he occupied the remainder of the shift. Noticing the end of shift nearing, suddenly, he wanted it to be extended. He wasn’t afraid of going back to his quarters alone, no; he was James T. Kirk. Once more, he felt the weight of Spock’s eyes on his back, as if the Vulcan could sense his emotional turmoil. Jim froze. If he’d bonded with Spock, which he was fairly certain he had, then Spock _could_ feel his emotions. Shit.

"Captain?"

"I’m fine, Commander." It was a lie, and they both knew it. Jim didn’t care.

He left the bridge, and a confused Vulcan, behind. He took the turbo lift to the officers’ deck, but paused in the hallway. He didn’t want to go into his room...not alone...not tonight. He knew that left him only one option because there was no way Bones would let him sleep down in the med bay - not without an explanation. Jim wasn’t ready for that talk. His options were his room or, or – Spock’s.

"Captain."

Jim turned to face Spock, and drew back slightly at the anger emanating from his First Officer. Vulcans were _not_ expressionless creatures, no matter what anyone said.

"I find it - troubling that you would lie to me so blatantly."

Jim ran a hand through his hair.

“Did you use your Vulcan mind – thing to figure that out, Spock?” Jim spat. “Are you spying on me? Checking up on me? Afraid I’m going to – ”

Spock stiffened as Jim hurled accusations at him. His concern for Jim was genuine, and he failed to understand the source of Jim’s hostility. While he typically found human emotions nearly impossible to anticipate, his Captain’s confounded him continually. The bond did reveal the strongest of Jim’s emotions, but he knew enough of Jim to see the tension in the set of his shoulders, which always indicated a heightened level of stress, without the assistance of the bond.

He was startled out of his internal analysis when Jim brushed past him, muttering incoherently. Jim must have interpreted his extended silence negatively.

“Captain – ”

Spock noted the way Jim’s entire posture stiffened.

“Jim,” his voice was soft, an entreaty.

Jim cursed himself. He wanted to be strong; to walk away; to save them both. When Spock used _that_ voice, he was powerless – he’d do anything Spock asked. That’s why he stopped – that’s why he turned to face the brown eyes laced with concern.

“What, Spock?” Jim asked, voice tired.

“You are distressed. I fear my lack of immediate response has upset you. This was not my intent. I find your questions difficult to answer as I cannot comprehend the reason for the enquiry. I had hoped you knew me well enough to know I would not ‘spy’ on you through any means. I find many of your fears completely unnecessary.”

Jim moved closer to him the more Spock spoke. It wasn’t a conscious choice; in fact, his mind warred against his traitorous feet. Either way, he was now up close and personal with his Vulcan. _His_. The word rolled around in his mind, igniting places deep inside him. It took root there.

“As to your last query. Even though you failed to finish its articulation, I can guess its conclusion. I can also assure you that I trust you – without reservation.”

Something inside Jim broke. In two strides, he found his arms full of warm Vulcan; his mouth fastened itself to Spock’s. His fingers dug into Spock’s biceps, and he felt Spock melt into his hold. Jim thrust his tongue against Spock’s lips, demanding entrance, which Spock willingly gave. With a growl, Jim devoured his First Officer. As his tongue sought out the hidden places of Spock’s mouth, his mind established a steady mantra of _mine, mine, mine._ Wanting, needing, more contact, Jim moved his hands down Spock’s arms, his fingers lacing with Spock’s. He felt Spock tremble with the contact, and he enjoyed the power he had, his ability to make the Vulcan express such _human_ traits. Forcefully, more so than was entirely necessary with the passive Vulcan, Jim thrust Spock’s arms above his head, effectively pinning him to the wall. Knowing Spock could break free at any moment, Jim tore his mouth away, moving his lips along Spock’s jaw, savoring the taste of the skin beneath his tongue. He waited for Spock to make any attempt to move, to release himself, to be free.

Spock understood what Jim was attempting to do. What his Captain had failed to realize was that Spock had no intention of ever breaking away from him. He knew what Jim needed, the reassurance he’d been seeking ever since they’d been reunited on the planet. After his discussion with Doctor McCoy, Spock knew with 99.8% certainty that words would not convince Jim that he was trusted implicitly. Spock knew he needed to demonstrate his trust. He allowed his body to relax completely, knowing Jim would support him, knowing Jim _needed_ to support him.

Jim was far from idle, his mouth marking a trail up and down Spock’s neck, focusing on the tender skin where his neck met his collar bone.

“Captain – Jim,” Spock managed, “Might I suggest we retire to a more private location?”

Jim froze. He couldn’t go into his room. Not yet.

“My quarters are available, Jim.”

He groaned at the invitation in Spock’s tone. Unable to speak, he simply nodded. In the moments it took to reach Spock’s room, Jim lost his confidence, his certainty that Spock truly wanted him. Breathing heavily, Jim looked around the room. His eyes landed on the bathroom door, and his throat closed, restricting the air through his lungs. Once more, he found himself trapped in his own mind, visions of Jareth’s nightmare drowning him, pulling him under. Helplessly, he gazed at the door, a longing filling him, the void in his soul expanding. Spock was on the other side of that door, if only he could reach him. Jareth’s cruel laughter rang in his ears as he banged his fist against the door, trying to reach Spock, needing to reach Spock. Tears stained his face, as despair held him in its cruel embrace.

He felt hands, warm hands, wrap around him. Shuddering against the embrace, he turned. Spock. He closed his eyes, averted his face. This was too much, it was too cruel. He couldn’t allow himself to be swept away by his feelings – not when it wasn’t real. More tears fell from his eyes as he prepared himself to do what was necessary. The hands around him rubbed against his sides, gently kneading the muscles there. His resolve wavered. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, this delusion. He could give in – for Spock, for even the fantasy of Spock, he could succumb. Turning, he expected to see some flaw in his conjured image – some indication the apparition was pure fantasy. Instead,  a perfect replica stood before him; the brown eyes full of heavy concern.

“Jim,” Spock spoke his name softly, “I am real, Jim.”

Smiling, Jim nodded. “Of course you are. In my dreams, you’re always real.”

The glossed over look in his Captain’s eyes concerned Spock. His fevered words, spoken with such conviction, troubled him further. Spock pushed against Jim’s mind, determined to pull him from his hallucination. At first, Jim’s mind pushed back, refusing to allow Spock entrance. It was dangerous, but it had to be done. Spock forced his way into Jim’s mind. Instantly, he was assaulted by a deluge of random thoughts, emotions, memories. There was nothing solid upon which to ground himself. For a terrifying moment, Spock felt himself swept away with Jim’s tumultuous thoughts. Then he found it. Gently, Spock reached out and pressed against the thoughts binding Jim.

“Spock?” Jim asked, voice unsure.

“Yes, Jim.”

Relief swept though him as he slumped against his First Officer. The Vulcan was warm, solid beneath him – real. While Jim wasn’t entirely sure what Spock had done, he knew he wasn’t dreaming. Spock was here, with him, holding him close. Holding him as though he were the most precious thing in the universe. Jim moved his arms up around Spock’s neck, nuzzling against him further. He felt Spock’s arms settle on the small of his back, his deft fingers tracing small patterns of heat through Jim’s uniform shirt.

“Jim,” Spock whispered, “I wish to complete our bond. I found our separation on the planet’s surface most disagreeable. The bond will also prove to you that I am real, corporeal, and not a manifestation of your subconscious.”

With his words, Spock managed to close the gaping void Jim had felt deep within in him. Overcome with emotion beyond words, Jim placed a chaste kiss against Spock’s neck. He sighed when he felt the Vulcan shudder.

“Are you amenable to such a bond, Jim?”

Jim smiled. He pulled back just enough to look into Spock’s eyes, comforted by what he saw in the brown depths.

“Yes, Spock. I simply hope you won’t be disappointed with me.”

Spock stiffened; Jim tried to move back, but Spock held him fast.

“I assure you, Jim I will find no disappointment in a full bond. In fact, I will find it more uncomfortable to remain only tangentially bonded to you. Vulcans bond for life – I wish to have such a connection with you. There is no other for me.”

Jim stretched up, his lips seeking Spock’s. Tenderly, they tasted each other, simply brushing lips against lips. Spock’s hand moved up, caressing the side of Jim’s face. Tilting his head, Jim deepened the kiss, his hands sliding up and down the fabric covering Spock’s arms. He worked his hands down to the bottom of Spock’s shirt, ghosting his fingers over the skin hidden under the blue material. They broke apart long enough for Jim to slide Spock’s shirt up and off.

Feeling Jim’s shirt rub against the bare flesh of his chest sent shocks of pleasure through Spock’s body. He locked his lips to Jim’s once more, savoring the taste of him. Jim’s breath was warm against the skin of his neck. Wanting him closer, Spock trailed his hands down, massaging Jim’s ass cheeks, before hauling him forward, their crotches bumping against each other.

“I wish to see you,” Spock stated.

Smirking, Jim pulled back. The Vulcan’s eyes were fully dilated, nearly black with lust. His eyes remained on Spock as he moved his hands to the bottom of his shirt, lifting the material quickly over his head. Spock’s eyes avidly perused Jim’s exposed flesh, his gaze igniting a fire everywhere it landed. Jim reached out, grabbed the waist of Spock’s trousers and hauled him back against his body, groaning at the friction. He rocked his hips against Spock’s, loving the sensation caused by the way the material rubbed the sensitive flesh of his dick. Spock’s lips attached themselves to his neck, licking and biting at the skin there.

Jim’s hands tightened where they held Spock’s arms. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire, attuned to the attention his First was lavishing upon his flesh. He felt the wet trail Spock left as he continued to map out the expanse of skin before him. As with everything else he did, Spock used his tongue expertly as he found every contour, crevice and sensitive patch of skin. All Jim could do was cling to Spock’s arms, knowing for the first time in his life he wouldn’t fall. When Spock’s hand worked its way between their bodies and brushed against his crotch, Jim hissed in a breath between his teeth. Apparently enjoying the response, Spock repeated the action until Jim was a panting mess in his arms. Finally, the Vulcan undid his button and zipper and slid Jim’s uniform pants and underwear down his legs. He shivered as the air hit his exposed skin, and shivered again when Spock’s hands landed on his ass.

Liking the way Jim’s skin felt beneath his fingers, Spock continued to squeeze the flesh. This caused Jim’s hips to surge against his own. As their tongues rolled around in a sloppy, wet kiss, Spock guided them back towards the bed. He gently pushed Jim back onto the bed, his eyes burning as he gazed at _his_ Captain, _his_ Jim laid out before him. A low, possessive growl rumbled through his body.

Jim watched the way Spock’s eyes devoured him. When he heard Spock growl, his entire body shuddered. Eyes locked with his, Spock prowled to meet Jim on the bed. He lowered himself, legs on either side of Jim’s body, lips connecting once more in a kiss full of possession. Jim was unable to do more than whimper as Spock demanded entrance to his mouth, demanded Jim respond to his questing tongue. Jim ran his hands up and down Spock’s back, feeling the silky skin beneath his fingers ripple as Spock’s muscles moved and flexed and Spock traced a path down from his lips. Wanting to see all of the Vulcan currently familiarizing himself with the more sensitive parts of his neck, Jim danced his fingers along the waist of Spock’s trousers. He smiled to himself when the teasing touches caused Spock to clench his abdominal muscles. Slowly, Jim added more pressure, kneading the muscles before deftly undoing the button and zipper and tugging Spock’s pants over his hips.

Spock stilled his movements, making it easier for Jim to remove his pants. He’d never felt so saturated by a person before – he’d never before felt so consumed. Spock found he enjoyed simply pressing his lips to the skin of Jim’s neck, his lips, his face, his body. It pleased him to know he would be able to engage in such activities on a frequent basis. His eyes rolled back in his head when he felt Jim’s fingers brush against his penis. He’d never had another touch him so intimately, as his relationship with Nyota had never progressed to such sexual interactions. As Jim’s hand moved up and down his penis in smooth, steady strokes, Spock found himself unable to maintain a single train of thought for any amount of time. Each time he would begin to think, he would lose it because of some delightful thing Jim would do with his hand.

For his part, Jim couldn’t help the smug smile on his face. He enjoyed knowing he could cause his ever in control First Officer to lose focus with just his hand. Jim’s smile widened at the idea of what an incoherent mess he could reduce Spock to with other parts of his body. Before he could devote too much time to such thoughts, Spock’s mouth was once again savoring the skin above his collarbone. As Jim’s own eyes rolled back in his head, he lost focus on what he was doing with his hand. His movements on Spock’s dick became more erratic – then Spock’s tongue ran across his nipple. Jim’s hips bucked so hard he was impressed he hadn’t toppled them both off the bed. He _felt_ Spock growl in approval as he repeated the motion. This time, he was prepared for Jim’s reaction, and held Jim’s hips firmly against the mattress. The display of power, of dominance, made Jim shudder all over, wanting to feel this way for the rest of his life.

Spock enjoyed watching Jim’s expressive face, feeling his body react to the different ways Spock touched him. He found he enjoyed repeating actions that caused Jim to react with a sound or movement of approval. Spock knew that when he grazed one of his Captain’s nipples slightly with his teeth, Jim would respond by gripping Spock’s biceps rather strongly. Spock enjoyed such a reaction. He took satisfaction in Jim clinging to him in a seemingly desperate way. Continuing his exploration of Jim’s flesh was the only logical choice. He moved his tongue further down, running it along the planes of his abdominal muscles, enjoying the way the muscles would contract and release under his attentions. There was also something pleasurable about hearing the incoherent sounds, possibly words, escaping Jim’s lips.

“Fuck, Spock.”

The Vulcan smirked. He fucking smirked. Jim could feel the shift of lips against his hip where Spock was currently kissing a bruise into the flesh. It was a good thing Vulcans were stronger than humans, as Jim couldn’t have kept his hips from bucking even if the entire Klingon army was invading his room. The way Spock swirled his tongue, and the things he did with his _fingers_ – it was incredible. He knew he sounded like an incoherent mess, but god, if it wasn’t the most amazing feeling in the world. Spock hadn’t even touched his dick yet. Jim feared he’d embarrass himself like a teenager when he did; he was so hard it was painful.

Spock paused, his breath caressing Jim’s engorged penis. For a moment, he considered the appendage, the way it jutted out from the patch of tawny hair, the clear liquid dripping from the tip. On impulse, Spock leaned down and licked the liquid from the tip. The taste was salty; Spock rolled it around in his mouth.

“ _Goddamnit,_ Spock!”

Spock repeated the action, not anticipating the way Jim’s hips would surge up, forcing Jim’s penis further down his throat than he’d anticipated. He placed his hands on Jim’s hips, holding him down as he slid Jim’s penis in and out of his mouth. As he continued the action, establishing a steady rhythm, he noticed the way Jim’s hands fisted into the sheets, his head thrown to the side, eyes closed. Spock allowed Jim’s penis to slip from his lips with a wet noise. Before Jim could voice his disapproval, Spock returned his tongue to the underside of Jim’s penis, licking from base to tip before sucking intently on the tip.

Spock’s mouth on his dick was the most amazing thing in the entire universe; Jim was convinced of this fact. When he felt one of Spock’s hands lift from his hip, he feared Spock was going to stop. However, Spock simply moved the hand down to massage his balls. Jim was more than willing to allow him to do that. Jim forced his hands to remain fisted into the sheets, afraid if he moved them anywhere near Spock he’d pull the Vulcan’s hair from his head. He felt Spock’s hand move further down, the pad of his finger brushing against his hole.

“GAH!”

Spock pulled his mouth from Jim’s penis. His hand continued to gently rub against the sensitive skin around Jim’s hole, delighting in the way the muscle contracted at the contact. He waited until Jim opened his eyes.

“Jim,” Spock’s voice was deeper, breathier than he had anticipated, “in order to complete the bond, I will need to penetrate your body.”

Jim’s eyes rolled back in his head. Only Spock could make such a clinical statement sound like the hottest fucking thing _ever_. His dick twitched in anticipation. It’d been a while since he’d been with another guy, but he knew being with Spock would be beyond anything he could imagine. His eyes shot open when he felt one of Spock’s fingers push into him.

“Lube,” Jim managed, as pleasure shot up his spine. “Drawer.” Jim pointed to the bedside table.

He wasn’t sure how Spock managed it, but the Vulcan stretched across his body and grabbed the lube from the drawer all without disrupting the finger currently moving in and out of his ass. Jim wiggled his hips, forcing Spock’s finger in deeper. He hissed, not expecting the stretch to burn quite as much. Jim gave a short chuckle when Spock glared down at him. It wasn’t so much that Spock’s expression changed, more that there was something different in his eyes – somehow Jim _knew_ Spock disapproved. His laugh relaxed into a smile as he forced himself to still his hips. Another laugh threatened to spill from Jim’s lips as he saw Spock nod slightly in approval. Instead, he moaned as one slick finger pushed into his hole. Of course, he should have known the multi-tasking Vulcan would have been coating his fingers with lube while Jim was busy finding him amusing.

Spock enjoyed watching his finger disappear into Jim’s body, the visual of them becoming one gratifying. Wanting Jim’s body to be as prepared as possible, Spock slowly inserted a second finger. He basked in the sounds coming from Jim. Spock once more took Jim’s penis into his mouth, sucking in rhythm with his fingers. He moved his free hand down to massage Jim’s balls, rolling them gently. The fingers inside Jim’s body increased their pace, scissoring when then they were fully inside – preparing Jim to accommodate Spock’s girth.

Lost to the sensation, Jim’s head thrashed back and forth, mindless. Shameless moans, curses and other guttural noises passed ceaselessly through his lips. When Spock’s mouth sucked at the juncture of his cock and his balls, Jim thought he’d come from that alone. He moved his hands from where they’d been fisted in the sheets to Spock’s head. He tugged until the Vulcan looked up from his dick. Jim hauled Spock up his body, devouring his mouth with his own. The kiss was sloppy, wet – desperate.

“I want you to be inside me when I come, Spock.”

If possible, the Vulcan’s eyes darkened further at Jim’s demand. Spock nodded and removed his fingers from Jim. Jim felt the emptiness in his body and wanted to cry out his frustration; he’d never had such a yearning for another person before, never needed to be filled by someone so badly. Body pliant, Jim wiggled in anticipation when Spock placed Jim’s legs over his shoulders. When Jim felt the head of Spock’s dick push into him , his eyes slammed shut as pleasure sang through his body.

“I wish for your eyes to remain open, Jim.”

As his eyes fluttered open, Jim cursed the steadiness in Spock’s voice. Their gazes locked, and Jim’s chest tightened at the possessive look in Spock’s eyes. Apparently, the Vulcan propensity for being possessive sons of bitches wasn’t just a rumor.

“I want you to know it is me joining our bodies as I will soon join our minds.”

“God, fuck, Spock,” Jim blurted eloquently.

Jim felt Spock’s dick slide into him at a frustratingly slow pace. He knew his First Officer was trying not to hurt him, but he needed Spock to hurry it up a bit. It was as if Jim had been waiting for this moment for his entire life, and now that it was here, he wanted it. Once Spock was fully settled inside Jim, they both panted, eyes locked. Giving Spock some encouragement, Jim rocked his hips. Pleased when Spock began moving, Jim placed his hands on Spock’s arms, needing something to ground himself. Spock bent over Jim, his mouth searching out new places to mark. Jim moved his hands up Spock’s arms to his back, fighting the urge to crush the Vulcan to himself.

The heat of Jim’s body startled Spock with its intensity. He loved the way Jim clenched around him, the sounds coming from the back of Jim’s throat. Sweat glistened on Jim’s torso. He felt a tightening in his groin and knew he would not be able to contain his release for much longer. Spock licked a trail up Jim’s body, enjoying the way it jerked in response, until he once more savored the skin above Jim’s collarbone.

When Spock’s face blocked everything else from Jim’s view, his entire body vibrated with the knowledge that this was _his_ Vulcan. He was lost in a sea of pleasure as Spock’s dick thrust in and out of him. Spock was saying something, his hand attached to Jim’s meld points, but Jim was too far gone to make any sense of the words. He could barely focus on keeping his eyes open with the wildfire of pleasure licking through his body. Then, when he was sure he was simply unable to endure any more, he was slammed with not just his pleasure but Spock’s as well. He could feel how much pleasure he gave Spock. He could feel how _happy_ Spock was to have Jim as his mate.

“You are safe, T’hy’la.”

Jim heard the words from somewhere far away, but they filled him with such warmth. It was only when Spock’s fist closed around his dick that Jim came back to his body, to the moment. With swift, sure strokes, Spock worked Jim’s dick as though he’d been doing it their entire lives. His entire body jerking, Jim came, staining his chest in white stripes. Moments later, he felt Spock empty himself inside his body. Spock collapsed on top of Jim, the weight welcome.

Fearing he was crushing his mate, Spock rolled onto his back, pulling a fully sated Jim with him. Idly, Spock ran his fingers through Jim’s hair, a purr rumbling from his chest.

Jim looked up at Spock, a crooked grin on his face. “You know Spock, we’re doing that every night from now until – forever.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Secure in the knowledge that Spock would be there in the morning, Jim allowed his eyes to close, sleep coming quickly.

“Tomorrow morning and every morning after, Jim.”

Spock’s whispered assurance caused Jim to smile. Forever didn’t seem quite as daunting anymore.

 **END.**


End file.
